The Real Me
by Aragorns Arwen
Summary: Catherine Chandler had no idea what complicated meant until Vincent Keller entered her life. Discovering feelings that were hard to suppress, Catherine and Vincent are forced to deal with the realities of secret identities, misunderstandings, loyalty, danger and love.
1. Foolish Heart Looks Like We'r Here Again

**Standard Disclaimer's apply. **

**Authors Note:**

I have to say, i was quite prepared NOT to like this series. I had heard the buzz wasn't all that great and i expected to be underwhelmed. In many ways, i was. But for some reason, i stuck with BatB. And guess what, its become one of my favourite new shows!

More than twists and turns, i hope to explore the emotional connection between these two individuals. Aspects of aired episodes might be incorporated into the story as I write.

Enjoy!

* * *

Catherine Chandler was on her way to work when her mobile rang.

"Catherine, hello?"

"Cat? H-hi. It's JT."

Her brow furrowed. "JT?"

"Hi, yeah. I need your help. I have a situation."

Catherine didn't hesitate but turned at the stop light and headed in the opposite direction. An as yet unfounded knot of worry descended into the pit of her stomach. JT made it his business to remind her daily that she needed to stay clear of Vincent. If he was calling her, he was out of options.

"Define situation." She was sure not to be too specific. "Everything ok?"

She hadn't heard from Vincent in two days.

"Not quite. Situation is kind of dire." Panic crept into his voice.

"I'm on my way." The knot was now lead.

Catherine stepped on the gas while simultaneously leaving a voicemail for Tess. Voicemail was easier, less questions. And not knowing what would be waiting for her, she wasn't sure she would be able to hide the anxiety in her voice.

She reached the warehouse in a cloud of dust as her Chevy came to a screeching halt. The engine was still turning when she leapt out and run towards the door, her dark hair fanning out behind her. JT had the door open before she even got there.

They almost collided.

"Oh my God, JT. What's going on? Is it Vincent?" Catherine was already trying to rush past him. "I didn't want to ask too many questions when you called, I know anyone could be listening."

He spun around and blocked the narrow hallway. "Wait up! Wait! Wait a minute. _Catherine_!"

He took her shoulders and held tightly.

"Vincent has had episodes in the past where he goes into a trans-like state and…" he struggled to find the right word "_beasts-out_ for a couple hours. We don't really know what causes it. He has some theories."

"I don't understand-?"

"It happens every couple months. Never last more than eight, nine hours. He feels it coming on, I lock him up, seven hours later, everything is normal. It's like he cannot control some of the rage and for a few hours it's dialed to high. It's been two days and initially, it was the same. He raged for several hours and should have snapped out of it. He hasn't this time. It's like there is no rage left, he's just listless. He doesn't seem to hear me, he doesn't respond..." The panic she heard in his voice earlier returned. JT licked his lips nervously, his cheeks flushed. "He's locked up."

Tears rushed to Catherine's eyes and she blinked them away rapidly.

"I don't know what to do. It's never lasted this long. He might be in pain and I'm afraid… I wouldn't have called you but there is no one else…"

He didn't have to say it.

Catherine forced herself to remain calm.

"Where is he?"

JT turned and lead her up the stairs and into a back room off Vincent's bedroom. She had seen the cell in there before, but she hadn't asked any questions. Perhaps she should have.

The cell was small, but the bars were reinforced steel. One way in, one way out. There was a small mattress on the floor and nothing else.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw him lying half on the mattress, half on the floor, naked from the waist up save for a pair of jeans. She assumed the white ball of fabric in a corner was his discarded T-shirt.

JT must have seen the panic on her face. "He's alive. Barely. I don't know what to do. Usually between Vincent and myself, we figure these things out. And it's always been ok. But I don't know what to do and I'm not a doctor, he's the doctor and everything we might usually have done hasn't worked and I thought of you-" His words came out in a jumbled run on sentence.

It was her turn to calm him down, so she squeezed his hands gently. Turning, she walked towards the cell and pressed herself as close as she could get.

"Vincent?" It was a whisper. She couldn't touch him.

"He can't hear you."

"Vincent? _Vincent_?"

He moaned. "He _can_ hear me. Let me in."

"No. He _can't_." JT shook his head. "It's too dangerous"

"He could be dying, let me in."

"He could kill you!"

"If we don't get in there, we could lose him. Look at him. He's barely conscious, barely breathing. He won't hurt me."

She realised she believed that. No matter what his state, Vincent would never hurt her.

Still he shook his head.

"JT, we don't have much time."

She had an idea. She unholstered her firearm, turned the safety off and held it to him.

"Cover me." Silence. "JT. Take the damned gun and cover me. If I'm in danger, shoot him. I'm a cop. I can handle myself."

They stared each other down before he blinked first.

"You can't handle him when he turns." He looked torn but finally relented. "Dammit! I knew this was a bad idea. Alright. But if there are any signs that you're in danger, get out. I don't want to have to shoot him. Or you." He added the last bit under his breath, knowing his aim was pretty lousy.

Catherine wasted no time. She unhooked her holster, and unlocked the cell with the key JT handed to her. "Lock the gate behind me." He started to protest. "He can't get out, JT. Vincent would rather be dead than hurt innocent people again."

JT knew she was right and locked the gate as soon as she was inside, training the gun on his friend. His hand shook. He steeled his nerves.

Catherine stepped towards the man she still knew so little about but somehow cared for on a level that defied the brevity of their acquaintance.

"Vincent?"

She knelt down and gingerly touched his shoulder. His skin was hot to the touch.

"He's burning up!" she called to JT.

"Vincent?" She pulled and expected resistance. Instead, he rolled onto his back limply, his head lolled to the side.

Catherine didn't know where to touch first. His face, his chest – she could feel his heartbeat, it felt strong, but she wasn't reassured.

"Vincent?" This time she leaned forward and whispered into his ears.

He moaned again, but no other response. He was perspiring, heat radiating off him. His face was pale and his hair clung to his forehead in damp clumps.

"Should we move him?"

JT leaned close to the bars and looked torn. "I don't know. I don't like him lying there any more than you do, but he could go rogue and we can't risk that."

"Is there any medicine he takes usually?" Catherine couldn't stop her hands from gently cradling his face. His scar seemed in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. It was jagged and red.

"He's supposed to be super soldier. He doesn't get the common cold."

"We need a doctor."

JT rolled his eyes.

"Right, why didn't I think of that? Why not just call 911?"

She might have been annoyed at the sarcasm and the sharpness of his tone, but she knew he was just as worried.

Vincent moaned again, but there was no other sign he could even hear them. Catherine started to sweat. He was like a furnace and being this close to him was like being close to a heater in the heart of summer.

"I don't know. But I do know that if we leave him like this, he might never wake up. Or he might die."

"He'll be dead if Muirfield get their hands on him!"

Catherine's mind was working at a mile a minute. There was only one option.

"I won't let that happen. But I won't let him die either."

She caressed his cheek before getting up and backing out of the cell. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

JT locked the cell and she took her gun back, determined.

"What are you going to do? We can't let anyone know about him."

JT started panicking.

"I won't let him die. And right now, he needs a doctor to look at him."

JT threw his hands up in exasperation. "What, are you just going to the nearest ER and asking whether anyone was up to examining a genetically modified governmental experiment gone wrong? Muirfield will be watching medical facilities."

When Catherine was silent, his eyes almost bulged out of his face and little circles of mist appeared on his spectacles.

"You can't be serious! Are you crazy?"

She held her hands up to stall his tirade.

"Nothing that dramatic. But I am going to ask a friend, someone I trust."

JT just kept shaking his head.

"What else can we do?" Catherine's voice raised a little. "I know you don't want to see him dead. I have a guy, I trust him." The silence stretched. "JT, please. I can't lose him."

She didn't know it was the last bit that got to him, the emotion in her voice. And honestly, he didn't know what to do either. But that didn't mean he wasn't nervous.

"Who's this guy?"

Catherine sighed in relief. She would not have done anything without his support. He knew Vincent better than anyone.

"The medical examiner I work with. Evan Marks."

"The guy you kissed?" JT couldn't help himself. If Vincent made it through this, he was going to be pissed.

"Wha-"

JT waved off her question. Beggars couldn't be choosers. "Go, go! Before I change my mind. God. I hope we're doing the right thing."

Catherine nodded. "Trust me."

"Go."


	2. Same Old Game of Plastic Smile

Catherine dialled Evan's number as she exited the warehouse, rushing to her car.

"Evan, hi. It's Cat."

"Catherine." With his British accent he had a way of saying her name that was very pleasing to the ear. "I got a wake-up call from Tess this morning. She thought you might be with me for some reason."

There was an awkward silence. They had kissed and hadn't had a conversation about it.

Catherine swallowed her embarrassment and pushed on. "I need a favour."

"I guess we're _not_ talking about what happened the other night." Catherine remained silent. "Alright, I'll bite. What do you need?"

"Can you meet me at my apartment in twenty minutes?"

Evan's tone of voice dropped to what would commonly be referred to as flirtatious.

"Your apartment?" he laughed. "What kind of favour are you referring to?"

"An important one. I'm on my way there."

Evan picked up on her brisk tone. He took his cue. "Alright. I'll be right over."

Before she hung up she added, "Evan, bring your medical bag."

"Don't leave home without it."

Catherine hadn't been home five minutes before the doorbell rang. She had been trying to figure out how she was going to say the things she needed to. She kept coming up empty. No matter how dire, the reveal of Vincent's identity was no small secret. And while she trusted Evan, she couldn't predict how he would react.

She took a deep breath before opening the door.

Evan was a handsome man. After working with him and getting to know him, it was natural to wonder what dating him would be like. They flirted occasionally, she noticed when his backside looked particularly good in a pair of jeans on casual Friday's and she blushed, flattered when he complimented her looks at staff functions. He was a good prospect - handsome, independently wealthy, charming, he could make her laugh and above all, he was smart. Evan had made more than enough overtures for her to realise that if she was interested, he would be ready to take up the challenge.

She realised in hindsight that she had put up a small barrier between them since Vincent had entered her life. It had been so unconscious she had not even realised it until the night he'd kissed her. They had both been more than a little tipsy but if she was honest with herself, the kiss had not been unpleasant. It was so long since she had been intimate with anyone. It felt good to connect, even if it had been a mistake. But the connection had been physical and although she had yet to explore her uncomfortable feelings, she felt a magnetic, emotional pull towards her beastly saviour.

Catherine snapped back to reality as Evan crossed the threshold.

"What's with the cloak and dagger, Detective?"

The palms of her hands were moist so she rubbed them down the sides of her jeans.

"I urm… I'm sorry to get you out here without any explanation. Please, have a seat."

Evan raised a brow in suspicion. "I'd rather stand, thanks." He put his black medical bag down at his feet.

"I have a friend who needs help. Medical help."

"And you want me to examine this friend?"

She nodded.

"Catherine, not that I'm unwilling to help, but there are millions of doctors in the city. Is the person dead?"

"He isn't. Not yet."

"_He_?" He raised a brow.

She ignored that. "You remember I told you that when my mother was killed, there was a…"

"An animal that saved your life."

Catherine shook her head. "I thought it was a beast."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Initially yes, I know the story. But the investigation proved it was an animal."

"You know that I always thought it was some kind of beast. But over the years, I was convinced by others that it was the trauma, that it was in my head, that somehow it was all a manifestation of my subconscious. Psychologists told me I was projecting, taking the blame for my mother's death."

She checked to make sure he was still following.

"A few weeks ago, a case I was working lead me to new clues about what happened to my mother."

Evan frowned. "The blood sample you gave me."

She nodded. "I was in the subway and got into some trouble. I was thrown onto the tracks and would have been run over by a train if I wasn't pulled out of harm's way."

His frown deepened.

"The beast that saved me on the night my mother was killed saved my life again."

"You're saying that _a beast_ saved you a couple months ago and you didn't say anything?"

She nodded. "He saved my life, yes."

"The beast is a man?" He seemed exasperated.

"Yes." She met his eyes and held. "His name is Vincent Keller and he needs help. I need you to come with me and examine him. You cannot tell anyone what I'm asking you to do or mention his existence."

"Catherine, you're telling me that you want me to examine _a beast_? Come on. What's the joke?"

"He's a man, Evan." Catherine stepped forward. They were wasting time. Her tone became urgent.

"It's no joke. Vincent was a soldier in the US Marine Corps and he enlisted after his brother died during 9/11. He was a doctor, like you. But that wasn't what he signed up for. The government used him as part of a project to create super soldiers called Operation Muirfied. Men were experimented on and their bodies made stronger, they were able to fight harder, heal faster and God only knows what else. He literally turns into… some kind of hulk when he's upset. His killer instincts are fueled by extreme anger and rage."

"Cat, come on. Hulk?" He was incredulous.

She ploughed on, resolute. "When the experiment failed and the government realised that they couldn't control their soldiers, that they were unstable in their rage, they ordered all the subjects terminated. Vincent managed to escape but his family was told he was killed on active duty. He's alive and has been hiding from the government for years. He's the last living example of what they tried to do. And he saved me the night my mother was killed."

"I don't get this at all."

Catherine explained as much as she could, including what she knew about his current condition. Evan didn't say anything else, the furrow between his brows getting deeper with every word she uttered.

"Please. I need your help."

"You know this sounds fantastical right? I don't know whether to laugh, have you committed or dare to believe everything you're saying."

"Vincent is a good man. And he has saved my life. Twice." Her declaration became emotional.

"Sounds like you care about him."

Catherine didn't break eye contact. "I do."

"I think you're crazy." He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "Let's go."

She grabbed her jacket and her keys, a blur of movement. "Thank you."

* * *

Catherine used the drive to fill in any blanks. She knew it was information overload, but if Evan was going to have any chance of helping Vincent, he needed to understand as much as possible in a very short space of time.

Evan didn't really say much. He seemed conflicted, but asked questions about Vincent's medical condition, making notes on a small, spiral notepad. Catherine answered as much as she could, knowing JT would be able to provide more details.

"Writing this down isn't a great idea. Paper trail…" She looked over at him briefly as she navigated the turn onto the dirt road leading to the warehouse.

"My mind is finding it hard to process everything you are telling me. Forgive me for needing to read it to believe it." His tone was clipped. "Not that it's helping."

Catherine thought it best not to say any more. They could pick this conversation up later.

* * *

This time, JT was waiting for her at the door. It looked as though he had been pacing for a while. Seeing Evan approach with her made him visibly uneasy.

Catherine quickly handled the introductions. Both men seemed to be trying to take a measure of the other. They shook hands, one with mistrust, the other with a bewildered confusion.

"You do know I'm waiting to be punk'd right?"

JT glared at Catherine as he led them inside, clearly having doubts about the decision they had made.

Vincent was still where she had left him, but now he lay in a pool of his own sweat. Catherine rushed to the gate as JT unlocked it. He had a rifle at the ready.

Evan's eyes followed Catherine's flight to Vincent's side before moving to JT. His eyes widened incrementally.

"It's for your own protection, buddy." JT's tone wasn't exactly reassuring. Neither was the fact that the rifle shook in his hands.

"Evan," Catherine called. "He's over here."

Evan moved into the cell, taking stock of his surroundings. He put his bag down and lowered himself to the floor beside his unconscious patient.

"Is the cell really necessary?"

Catherine's expression gave him the answer. He didn't miss the worry and anxiety evident in her body language and etched all over her face.

He noticed that Vincent's physique was impressive. _The guy must bench-press hundreds of pounds most hours of the day to maintain it._ He was also what his sister would call, "ruggedly handsome". A pang of jealousy took flight in his belly as he watched Catherine stroke his hair. He scowled and pushed his feelings aside, instead firing questions about Vincent's medical history at JT while simultaneously removing his stethoscope from his bag.

Catherine briefly met his gaze and tried to convey her thanks. He nodded unperceptively before getting to work.


	3. Don't Let Anybody In

Catherine had not wanted to leave Vincent, but she needed to check in at work or risk being severely disciplined for her unscheduled and unexplained absence. She left Vincent in Evan's care, JT ever watchful, and told him to call her if there was any change. She would be back later.

Tess had questions, but Catherine remained vague. She had told her that Heather had had some bad fish and she needed to take her to see a Doctor. She could tell that Tess didn't believe a word. Since Catherine arrived at the precinct, she was snappy, distracted and unable to concentrate. She felt stressed up to her eyeballs, especially since she hadn't heard anything from Evan or JT (who refused to give her his mobile number) in what was only an hour or two, but felt like forever.

"Cat, you're strung so tightly, you might snap from the stress." Tess sat down on the edge of her desk. "You know you can trust me right? With anything. If you need to talk, no judgement."

"I know." Catherine nodded, almost caving.

She was worried about Vincent, worried about Evan carrying this secret and she was tired of lying to all the people she cared about. But her partner didn't probe any further and the moment passed.

Two hours later the day was almost over and thankfully, the weekend loomed.

"Hey, Cat, want to catch a drink after work? Its Friday, might help you lighten up." Tess finished the latter part of her sentence in song.

Catherine wished she could. Her mobile rang. Evan.

Tess caught the caller ID and wiggled her eyebrows. "Guess your weekend's already looking up."

Cat shook her head. "Evan."

"Hiiii Evann!"

Cat threw Tess a pleading look and her friend backed off, but not before mouthing, "Monday. You and me. I want details!"

"I guess Tess is around."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. How's… everything?"

"I'm at my office; I've just finished up a report on the Matlock case. We can talk here."

"You've been _at your office_," Catherine lowered her voice, realising she had caught some people's attention, "and you didn't think to _call me_?"

"I have a job Catherine. That's important too." He was annoyed.

She knew he was right. She just couldn't believe he didn't call her to let her know what was going on.

"I'm on my way."

Passing Tess, she shouted, "rain check on the drinks?"

Her friend was grinning from ear to ear. "Have a good evening… or _weekend!_"

Evan's office was at the City Morgue, located at the end of a particularly depressing corridor. It was cold, smelled of embalming fluid, cleaning agents and recycled air. It wasn't her favourite place.

She found Evan peering into a stomach cavity. She wasn't sure if the cadaver was male or female. It was covered with a white sheet.

She rushed in. "How did it go?"

"Good afternoon to you too." He snapped off his gloves. "Let's go into my office."

Evan moved behind the desk while Catherine closed the door. He picked up the little spiral notepad he had earlier and flipped through his notes.

"It seems you were saved by a beast after all."

"Twice. Is he alright?"

"Has he helped you out on cases? I remember finding odd DNA on two of the victims in cases you worked. I blamed it on faulty equipment."

"Your equipment was working fine. Vincent… he has a way of showing up when people need him."

"And you've covered his tracks." It was a statement, not a question. "He was the guy at the gallery that night wasn't he? Dammit Catherine, this is dangerous! _He_ is dangerous."

"I can take care of myself." She didn't want to argue with him. "What's wrong with him? Is he alright?"

It was clear Evan wanted to pursue a different line of questioning, but Catherine wasn't having any of it. At least not until she knew whether Vincent was alright.

"His genetic, physiological and bio-chemical makeup is staggeringly complex. And it's not my field of specialty. Talking to JT, I was able to understand a little of what might be happening to him, but it's too early to tell. I'm running some tests-"

Before she could interject he held up his hand to stave her. "I'm running the labs myself, off the record. I'll destroy the samples when I have concluded the tests."

"What do you think is wrong with him?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

Catherine ran her hand through her hair in frustration. Her anxiety wasn't lost on Evan.

"But, he woke up. His vitals are off the chart. But, making adjustments for his size, they are fairly strong."

"He's awake? Thank God!" Her knees could have buckled, her relief was palpable.

"He freaked out when he came around. JT managed to calm him. He'll be weak for a day, two at most I would imagine. JT confirmed he heals rapidly."

Catherine wanted to see him, make sure he was alright.

"I have to go." At the door, she turned to her friend. "Thank you. I really appreciate this."

"We haven't finished this conversation, Cat." He looked worried.

"I can handle myself... and Vincent. He wouldn't hurt me. Ever." Evan was surprised by the deep conviction in her voice.

"You don't know that. From what I understand, he has no control over himself when he _beasts out_."

She raised a brow.

"JT's expression. I don't have a better phrase. Do you?"

She didn't suppose she had. "I'll call you later. Thank you again."

"Be careful."

She nodded, rushing down the corridor toward the elevators.

* * *

"I'm starting to think you need keys to this place." The words were uttered with liberal amounts of sarcasm, but held no bite. Catherine began to wonder whether JT was warming towards her.

"Would you get me a set?"

JT rolled his eyes and Cat laughed. It felt nice.

"How's he doing? I just got back from Evan's. I came right over."

"Resting. The Doc… he knew what he was doing. Everything went ok until Vincent came to and found your man friend hovering over him with a syringe."

"He's not my man friend. Well, he is a friend who's a man... never mind. Our relationship is _not_ what you are implying."

"Whatever you say."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" Catherine asked, exasperated.

"Because you are important to him." JT pointed in the general direction she assumed Vincent was. "And since he's met you, he's doing all kinds of dangerous stuff, feeling all alive, acting like batman and not caring so much about the consequences. He might be some kwasi superhero, but he is also human. And he can get killed."

"I would never hurt him, JT." Warming to her? _Not so much_.

"Maybe not intentionally."

"What happened to him wasn't my fault."

"Not this time."

Catherine started to protest but let it go. JT had given up a lot to help his friend. Her presence in their life _was_ a complication. She hadn't been the only one that was worried and stressed out. JT had likely experienced it even more intensely.

She simply repeated, "I would never do anything to hurt him," as she headed up the stairs behind him, anxious to see Vincent.

JT just shrugged.


	4. Hiding My Heartache

For some reason, Catherine felt really nervous walking into Vincent's bedroom. _Really nervous_. And self-conscious. And awkward. And she didn't know why. She had walked in there many times and they had had long conversations at the little table in the corner of the room.

Vincent was lying on the bed, on his back with a sheet covering up to his midsection. She was relieved he had a t-shirt on. Despite that realisation, her pulse still leapt.

"You don't have to creep in you know, I could hear you pulling up. You were speeding."

Catherine grimaced and hovered near the side of the bed, unsure what to do with herself.

"Sorry. Habit. How are you feeling?"

He scooted up and gestured for her to have a seat on the bed. She gingerly perched on the side, her thigh touching his. She had never noticed how hot it was in his room. She pushed her hair back from her face.

"Feeling better I guess. I don't remember much of what happened. JT filled me in." He looked sheepish. "Thanks… for the help."

Catherine's eyes softened. She didn't realise it, but he would happily have had her look at him in that soft, compassionate, _trusting_ way forever.

"I'm just glad JT called. And that you're alright."

"I ur... heard what JT said to you downstairs. Sorry. He gets a little-"

They both finished the sentence, "protective."

They laughed and it was like an outpouring of all the stress and anxiety. His smile wasn't something she saw often.

"You should smile more often. It looks good on you."

"Right back at you." He looked away, embarrassed. "There isn't always something to smile about."

"I guess we need to make sure we celebrate the good things then."

The sat in silence for a moment.

"Evan told me that he's trying to figure out what's happening to you. It might be useful to consult with him, you're both doctors. Two heads being better than one and all that."

Catherine didn't know what made her bring up Evan. Vincent had tensed.

"Yeah." He didn't look like he thought it was a good idea. "I should apologise for almost throwing him out the room. I could have hurt you too."

"Evan is a big boy. I'm sure he understands. And I can take care of myself."

He found something really interesting on the surface of the duvet.

"So, you two..."

"We're not...

"I mean, he seems great. And British. Bit of a stiff upper lip, but if you're into that kind of thing."

Catherine detected mild sarcasm. "He's not..."

"I didn't mean to pry. You can date whoever… I just wondered…"

She said with finality, "we work together. I mean, I did think about dating him at some point, but…" Catherine shook her head to stop the rambling. "Friends."

"Oh, I see."

"You sound like JT."

"Yeah," he grinned, slightly. He looked relieved and Catherine was inexplicably pleased. "I heard that exchange too."

She blushed. "Of course." Their eyes met. "I meant what I said, you know. I care about you. I would never do anything to hurt you. And if you felt that," it was hard for her to say the last bit, "it would be better if I left you alone, I would."

She looked down at her hands because his stare was intense and she felt its pull.

"Catherine-"

"It would be hard not to see you. But if you wanted me to, I would walk out of your life and never look back."

"I like having you as a part of my life."

She smiled wryly, feeling quite wretched. "JT thinks it's a bad idea."

"JT thinks everything is a bad idea. He thinks dipping Oreo's in milk is a bad idea. Clearly, he has no judgement. Hey." She felt the mattress depress as he leant forward and cupped her face, bring her chip up.

"I'm alright. You helped save my life today."

His eyes were luminous and she searched their depths, trying to unlock all his secrets.

She felt the pull again and like she didn't have control over her own body, she leaned closer and so did he.

She watched his eyes flick to her lips and back to meet her gaze, as if he was afraid looking away might break the spell. It didn't.

Her hands touched his chest and he inhaled sharply. The expanse was broad and the surface warm and solid.

His other hand reached around and cupped the nape of her neck, reeling her in.

Catherine forgot to breathe, eager for the touch of his lips. She felt anticipation race down her spine, her lips tingling, yearning to make contact.

Her mind clouded over and her heavy eyelids descended.

"Vincent! What do you want for dinner?"

They both jumped slightly and the spell broke. JT's voice drifted from below.

Catherine was embarrassed and Vincent looked annoyed.

'Vincent?!"

"I hear you," he called back, briefly resting their foreheads together.

Her hands dropped between them and his landed close by. He ran his index finger over the back of her palm. She looked up at him but he was looking at their hands. Hers was slim and pale, her nails neatly trimmed; his was covered with a sprinkling of dark hair, their complexions contrasting.

"How about, I cook you dinner?" She whispered.

Their eyes met. "You don't have to. JT makes a mean pizza."

"I'd like to." Their hands held.

"Cat's cooking!" he hollered back.

They both smiled when they heard JT mumble something.

"What did he say?" She was sure Vincent could hear him.

"Something about _that woman_."

She laughed. "Feel up to coming downstairs?"

Vincent nodded. "You're growing on him, you know."

She raised a sceptical brow.

"_That woman_ is an improvement on what he called you before."

Catherine laughed, leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

When Vincent analysed the moment later, he was convinced it was 60% cheek, 20% mouth and 20% scar.


	5. Will This Glass House Break

**A/N: A thousand thank you's to everyone reading. Its a pleasure to receive your reviews.**

Catherine woke on Saturday morning feeling… excited. She hugged her pillow and closed her eyes, wanting to savor a few minutes with herself before her day began. She felt intense excitement; like everything was new and her world was filled with all sorts of possibilities. She didn't have to ponder why. It was Vincent. And it was the possibility of a friendship on the cusp of being a something infinitely more.

It had been so long since she had been with someone emotionally and physically. Her last relationship had been a bust and for a while she had sworn off men. Then she met Evan and had entertained the idea that they might toy with getting to know each other better.

But then Vincent crashed into her life, Evan… well, perhaps it was simpler not to complicate a working relationship with romance.

Catherine flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and concentrated, almost able to feel Vincent's finger tracing its way up the back of her palm, to her wrist, to her elbow and back again. She shivered and gooseflesh rippled across her arms. Actually, it didn't take much concentration. Every time she closed her eyes, she replayed their evening together over and over in her mind. It ran in the most pleasurable loop, like a record that was stuck or a song on repeat. The great thing about memories was that it could be manipulated, a personal fantasy taking flight and the end result could be a myriad of different scenarios. Most of her fantasies ended with kissing, lots of it - unlike the reality that had JT interrupt at the most inopportune moment.

Catherine sighed. _The most inopportune moment_. At least no one had access to her thoughts.

The evening had turned out great. JT and Vincent had helped with the cooking and cleaning and it had been a rare thing to witness the bond between them. The jokes, the stories they told in tandem, the laughter, camaraderie and obvious affection. They ate at the kitchen table, like a makeshift family, sharing stories of their travels and escapades.

Vincent smiled and laughed out loud. The sound was music to her ears. Throughout dinner their eyes would meet across the table and hold for an infinitesimal moment. His gaze was warm and relaxed. He looked happy. Irrationally, she was happy because of it.

Her mobile beeped and Catherine was called back from her thoughts. She reached over to retrieve it. The real world beckoned.

It was a text from Evan. "No news yet. But we need to talk. Call me. E."

Catherine sighed. She didn't want to get into it with Evan. But she would have to face him sooner or later. Right now, later worked better.

She sniffed. _What's that smell?_

"Cat! Breakfast's ready!"

Catherine frowned. Her sister never cooked her breakfast. In fact, she _never_ cooked at all. Catherine pushed aside her covers and grabbed a hair band, tying her hair into a ponytail as she padded barefoot into the kitchen.

"What on earth? Heather? What are you doing?"

Scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, toast, roasted tomato, peppers… A full spread.

Her sister smiled, ushering her to the table. "Come, sit. I'll pour some coffee."

Catherine stumbled into the chair, confused.

"Did I miss something?"

"Eat." Heather poured Cat her coffee and then gestured to the food on the table. "Sooo, Dad's wedding is coming up and I know we both kind of vowed to hate the evil step-mom, but Cat, she really isn't so bad once you get to know her," Heather looked sheepish, "and I kind of made a promise to Dad that I would help her with the last minute wedding details… so I'm moving home."

"Heather!"

"It's temporary! Really. Just till after the wedding. Please don't be mad."

"So all of this is to butter up your unsuspecting sister as you abandon the united front?"

Heather's face fell and Catherine couldn't hold a straight face any longer. She cracked a smile.

"Don't worry about it. I had my own epiphany as far as Dad and his bride-to-be is concerned and I understand. You're right. If Dad's happy, then we should be happy for him too."

"Really? You're not mad?"

Catherine leaned across the table and squeezed her sister's hand. "Not mad."

* * *

By early evening, Catherine was alone. She'd helped her sister pack up her things, which was easier said than done because Heather was notorious for living in chaos. Finding any of her things was a mission. Together they cleaned her room and eventually packed her bags. Heather was picked up by their father's driver and that meant Catherine had nothing to do. After wasting another hour taking a bath, washing her hair and then drying it, she gave up any pretense of productive activity and decided to go find Vincent. He was all she kept thinking about anyway, so she might as well go be with him.

She checked herself in the mirror. Blue jeans, a white t-shirt and her favourite, comfortable flat soled brown boots. Not exactly runway ready, but she instinctively knew Vincent would appreciate her being natural and comfortable. That didn't stop her from applying some mascara and lip gloss. Everything couldn't be left to a man's preference.

There was a knock at her window. _Vincent_.

"Hi."

"Hi." For some reason, it was hard for her to look at him. Even harder _not _to look at him. It left her oscillating between drinking in the sight of him and staring anywhere but at his person. She was clearly losing her mind.

They sat down on the fire-escape.

"You get home alright last night?"

Catherine grinned. "Yes. Although, I got the feeling I was being followed."

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged."

"I felt safe. Thank you." It was the truth. As a cop, she was more than capable of taking care of herself. But knowing he watched over her, she felt safe. "You shouldn't have been out though. Not when you're still recovering. Take care of yourself ok?"

"Believe me, JT gave me an earful." He gestured towards the jacket and keys she had placed on the window sill. "Heading out?"

"Urm… yeah. I was actually."

Vincent looked embarrassed. "Sorry I just dropped by. I wanted to make sure you were alright." He realised how lame it sounded. "_After I followed you home and made sure you were inside and safe._"

Catherine laughed, charmed, despite his discomfort. "Looks like you're busted."

"Looks like." He looked down at his shoes, but peeked up at her through his lashes.

"I guess I just wanted to see you."

Catherine bit her lip to keep an ear-splitting grin from dominating her face.

"I guess I just wanted to see you too." His eyes met hers, a frown playing between his brows. "I was on my way to your place."

"Maybe JT should get you a set of keys after all," he teased.

"You're asking me to move in?" she feigned shocked horror.

Vincent laughed out loud. "I ur… I hear three's a crowd."

"So, you came to visit me… and I was on my way to visit you…"

Vincent thought for a moment. "I thought maybe… Would you like to see a movie with me?"

"At the warehouse? Or here? We could rent something?"

He shook his head. "No, at the cinema. I hear the new Bond movie is getting rave reviews."

She frowned. "Is that such a good idea? It's public."

"It's also dark. No one will recognise me."

She cocked her head to the side, amused. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Vincent Keller believed he didn't blush. He was a super soldier for God's sake. But he couldn't dispute the fact that his face burned slightly.

"I ur… I guess I am."

"I love James Bond." Catherine headed back into her apartment.

"I'm kinda like James Bond."

She grabbed her jacket and keys. "Suave and sophisticated?"

Vincent grinned. "I was thinking handsome and kickass."

"Can't argue with that." Catherine arched a brow and gave him the once-over as she headed out.

"So it's a yes?" he called.

"I'll meet you downstairs."


	6. How Much Will They Take Before I'm Empty

The cinema complex was a few blocks from Catherine's apartment. It took some convincing, but eventually Vincent relented and they walked together. To anyone watching, they looked like a normal couple on their way to dinner, simply enjoying each other's company or on their way home. No one watching would have thought them _friends _though.

The closeness of their bodies, angled towards each other but always a hairsbreadth away from touching, the whispered conversation, the chuckled laughter and the ways in which either Catherine or Vincent found to touch one another. His elbow or shoulder, the small of her back. There was no way they would be mistaken for being _just friends_. To an outsider, they were already lovers.

Catherine bought the tickets and he met her inside. She didn't remember enjoying a movie as much. It wasn't really the movie itself - although what she could remember of it she enjoyed - it was the actual experience of being on a first date, sitting close, laughing, whispering inanities and just enjoying the time spent with someone she cared about.

They shared a huge box of popcorn and every time their fingers met, they lingered just a little bit longer than necessary. By the time the credits rolled, Catherine was convinced that this was one of the best nights she had had in a long time. And she was glad that she was sharing it with him.

Vincent met her two blocks from the cinema and they walked towards her apartment. They were walking slowly, taking their time, both loathe for the evening to end.

"Does JT know…?" she was self-conscious and couldn't come right out and say it.

"Know what?" Catherine could tell he was being deliberately obtuse.

She poked him in the ribs. "That… you know… that we're on a date?"

He grinned. "Believe it or not, it was his idea."

Catherine's eyes bulged. "No. You're kidding!"

"No, no I'm not. His exact words were something about, _you not waiting around forever_ and me _sharing my feelings_ before it was too late."

"Wise words."

He went quiet. "I ur… haven't done this in a while. Naturally. I'll admit to feeling a little out of my depth." A nervous chuckle escaped. "How am I doing?"

"With the _not waiting around forever before doing something_ part or the _sharing your feelings_ part?" She was teasing.

"Ah… both I guess."

Catherine decided that actions spoke louder than words. She looked between them and slowly, but deliberately, linked their fingers. Her left hand, his right. His palm was warm, but rough. There was the slightest hesitation before his hand enveloped hers. It felt perfect.

Their eyes met. She grinned and he looked at her in that intense way she'd come to associate with him considering something important. Eventually, a slow a smile spread across his face too. She felt giddy and goofy. She thought he felt the same way too.

They turned the corner on the block where her apartment resided and stopped short.

"Evan?"

"Cat, hi." His eyes darted between them, noting their close proximity, the smiles that were fading in their eyes and on their lips and most importantly, to their linked hands.

Catherine felt Vincent start to pull his hand from hers and she held on tighter. They had taken a step forward. She wasn't allowing him to take two steps back.

"I sent you a text message this morning. I thought I would stop by and maybe we could have that conversation. But I see you're occupied."

Evan eyed her companion before extending his hand in greeting. "Vincent. You look better than when we last met."

Vincent was forced to let go of her hand - or risk being rude. The two men shook hands.

"Hi… uh… yeah. Thanks for the help the other day. I appreciate it. And sorry about the knock." Vincent gestured to the back of Evan's head.

Evan shrugged. "A new occupational hazard I guess."

There was an awkward silence before Catherine said, "Well, it's late so maybe we can catch-up tomorrow?"

Evan's gaze settled on Vincent, but his words were directed at her. "It's kind of important."

"It can wait till tomorrow."

"Cat, its ok."

"Vincent, no-"

He turned her towards him, effectively creating a little cocoon. He brought both her hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss there.

Catherine's eyes widened at his uncommon boldness, but she was pleased.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. She understood.

Vincent gave Evan a curt nod before he disappeared so quickly, it was like he had never been there.

"I wonder how he does that."

"Park the sarcasm. Come on, we might as well talk at my apartment."

They walked the last block in silence. Catherine was annoyed at Evan's persistence and Evan was annoyed at her annoyance.

Inside, Catherine took off her jacket, threw it on the sofa, planted her hands on her hips and waited.

"Well?"

He looked puzzled. "Cat, I don't understand why you're irritated with me."

"You don't?"

"I came over to talk to you, I managed to find you and now we're having a conversation."

"I see you skipped the part where I was with someone else and you drove him off."

"That's a little dramatic don't you think?"

She gave him a withering look before moving over to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of juice. Her manners were the only thing that made her offer Evan a beer. He declined.

"Catherine, I don't understand why you're angry with me. You call me to help you, I come. No questions asked. You ask me to keep a secret - _secrets _for you, and I do. I now realise quite clearly that you have feelings for a guy who is unstable and I'm concerned."

She bristled at the use of the word _unstable_. "Look, I appreciate that. I really do. But I can take care of myself. You know that."

"I also know what he becomes, I _saw_ it. You cannot protect yourself against that." His tone became urgent. "I don't know what triggers it. I'm nowhere near understanding what was done to him. You cannot risk your life by… _dating _him!"

"Is _that_ was this is about? My personal life has nothing to do with you."

"Maybe it doesn't, but you cannot expect me to see you making this colossal mistake and not say anything."

"We're not having this conversation." Catherine was firm. "You want to talk about Vincent's condition; I'm open to hearing about it. And honestly Evan, I do appreciate everything you have done for him and what you continue to do. But my personal life is just that. Personal." Her tone softened. "I know that you and I…"

He scoffed. "Please, this has nothing to do with that."

"Doesn't it? We kissed. And there was a flirtation before…"

"But that's over now." He said it as a statement. "I know you felt something Cat."

"It was a mistake. We were drunk and it should never have happened."

The sincerity in her eyes hurt him worse than the words.

"I'm sorry."

Disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow. "The tests I'm running should have results by Monday. I will need to talk with Vincent, see what he knows. If he is willing to talk with me, we might be able to figure out a little more."

"You don't have to do this."

He turned to leave. "I'm not leaving you to deal with this guy alone."

Catherine sighed in frustration.

"See you on Monday."

She didn't get the opportunity to respond. He was already out the door, a soft click signaling his departure.

Catherine let out a long, slow breath.

"He's right you know." Her head snapped up. Vincent walked into the room. "I am dangerous."

"You heard everything?"

"Just the last bit. I wanted to come by and say goodnight."

She smiled. "I thought that was what you meant earlier - that I would see you later - but I wasn't sure. Glad to see we're on the same wavelength."

Vincent wasn't in a playful mood. "Catherine."

She walked over and placed her index finger over his lips. She shook her head sharply when his lips moved to protest.

"I'm not saying this again. So listen carefully. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I can make decisions for myself. I know what I've gotten myself into with you and I've already leapt off the cliff. _Please don't make it a hard landing_." Her eyes shimmered with the barest hint of moisture

He was powerless. Vincent cupped the hand at his mouth and gently kissed her finger before moving her arm out of the way and pulling her flush against his chest.

Catherine's eyes widened with the realisation of what he was going to do mere moments before his lips descended and touched hers. She caught her breath and pulled back, startled.

Like magnets, the pull was there between them, drawing them closer.

"What was that for?" She moved her hands up his shoulders until they hooked behind his neck.

"First date." He shrugged, his voice raspy. "First kiss."

Catherine pulled his head towards hers. "Well, surely we can do better than that."


	7. Do I Let It Show, Does Anybody Know

**A/N: Thank you, thank you, heartfelt thank you's to all of you. Enjoy**

* * *

"Alright, seriously. I can't take it anymore." Tess perched on Catherine's desk and made herself comfortable. "You walked in here with an aura of… light around you." She gestured to her head, mimicking a halo.

"I did not!"

"Oh yes you did. You're radiating so brightly, I feel like I need sunglasses just to look at you. Cat, you're smiling at your screensaver." Tess looked her partner drolly, pointing to her computer screen. It was the office logo, scrolling inoffensively across the screen. It wasn't funny in any way. "Spill it. You. Evan. Everything."

Catherine shook her head and tried to hide her teeth. But her lips kept parting and eventually she just gave up.

"Oh my God. You're in love with the coroner. Must have been one hell of a weekend."

Catherine shook her head, holding up her hands to stave off any further assumptions.

"Evan and I are just friends."

"The guy." Tess eyed her critically. "The one you were bummed out about."

Catherine shrugged her shoulders dramatically.

"You hoochie. I thought he wasn't interested? We agreed he was a douche."

"_We _didn't agree on anything. And it turns out it was… a misunderstanding."

"When do I get to meet him?"

Catherine shook her head, sobering. "Not for a while-" Tess started to interrupt but Catherine continued. "Things are complicated. I just want to figure it out first."

"Cat, you're glowing. How much more figuring out can there be?"

"Please. Just give me some time."

Tess held up her hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Fine. But I want deets."

"Well, _that _I can give you." Catherine wiggled her brows and then blushed, covering her face in her hands and then peeking out, embarrassed.

"No waaay. You guys-"

"No, no, _nooo_. We didn't… we haven't… well… not _yet_."

"_Just _kissing and you look like you're about to burst into song?" Tess raised a brow and Catherine blushed again. "He's _that _good? I have to meet this guy."

"Ladies, enough with the chit chat. Meeting, my office."

"Always Captain grumpy pants." Tess rolled her eyes at the chief. At Catherine she said, "We're not done here."

* * *

"If you're not careful, you'll fall through the floor."

Vincent stopped pacing and glanced over at JT, puzzled. His friend was grading papers and peered at him through smudged spectacles.

"The spring in your step... You're one bounce away from creating a crater."

"Creating a crater?" Vincent shook his head. "Where do you get this stuff from?"

JT just shrugged. "I like living here. Wouldn't want to explain to the police how a crater exists but there's no evidence of a meteor shower. _Sorry officer, my roommate__'__s in love and was so excited after his first date, he literally stomped a love hole on what used to be the floor of our home_."

"You're crazy." Vincent chuckled, but sat down at the table, resuming his research.

"Just calling it like I see it." JT skipped a beat and Vincent knew it was coming. "So… how did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"Dude, come on. One of us has to live vicariously through the others love life. And guess what, a super soldier in hiding gets more action than I do."

"I thought you met someone? Didn't you go for coffee?"

JT shrugged. "I don't know if it's going to work out. I haven't done this in a while." Vincent thought he looked a little forlorn. "We make quite a pair don't we?"

"Yep."

He walked over to where Vincent was working. "Quit stalling. How did it go?"

"It was…" Vincent sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Great. She's amazing."

JT noticed Vincent had trouble containing his smile.

"I suppose I should get used to spending my evenings alone."

"It's not like we're… I mean… I don't want to move too fast. She might not feel…It's complicated." Vincent shrugged.

JT knew the whole relationship thing was going to be an adjustment. He decided to lighten the mood. "But overall, you're feeling alive?"

"Like Batman."

"Nah. Batman sucks as a super-hero. I suggest we use Superman when mocking going forward."

"I don't fly."

"Minor detail."

The friends shared a loud laugh.

"Making any headway with your research?"

Vincent shook his head. "Nothing new. This is the third time I look at the same results."

JT picked up one of the test results. "Maybe you should have an awkward but possibly fruitful consult with Cat's man-friend."

Vincent scowled. "He's not her man-friend."

"Whatever. You need help."

"Where's my overly cautious friend JT and what have you done with him?"

"Believe me; I'd like nothing better than to pretend the last couple days never happened. But it did. The man-friend knows your secret _and_ he's a doctor. I reckon trying to get some answers isn't going to do much more harm than what's already been done."

Vincent was quiet and JT dropped it, going back to grading his papers.

"He has feelings for her."

"So?"

"He's a normal guy. He can offer her… stuff."

"Dude, she wants _you_ to be her man-friend."

Vincent brooded. "I'll make contact. See what the _english lord_ has to say."

"You're jealous." He rolled his eyes. "This should be interesting. I see awkward in my future."

Vincent balled a piece of paper and threw it playfully in JT's direction.

* * *

Catherine and Tess walked into the precinct after spending their afternoon going door-to-door on a robbery. Catherine was hot, sticky, had a pounding headache and was not in the mood for the mountain of paper-work that lay ahead.

"I have a feeling that couple in 205 knows something."

Catherine nodded. "Let's get a warrant to search the apartment, see if we get lucky."

"I'm on it. You look like you're about to combust. I have some aspirin."

"Thanks. I'll be right over." Tess headed to her desk and Catherine up the stairs to the coffee station to get something cold. Leaning against the cool pillar, she took a minute. _What a long day_. She wondered what Vincent was doing. It wasn't like she could pick up the phone and call him. She sighed again.

"Trouble in paradise? Already?"

Catherine pushed her hair from her face and chose to ignore the remark. She poured herself a cup of cold water and sipped, staring at Evan over the brim of her paper cup, trying to gauge his mood. He looked… playful.

"What brings you by?"

"Your boyfriend actually."

Catherine pushed down her irritation, grabbed Evan's arm and pulled him down a quiet corridor.

"Slow down Darling, people might talk. You dragging me off into a deserted corridor and all."

"Evan." Catherine was exasperated.

"Just so you know, I won't give up." He leaned in close. "I know you felt something. You kissed me back."

"I was drunk." Catherine took a step back, putting some distance between them. "There are millions of women out there. All of them would be happy to be with you."

His smile was charming. "You think I'm desirable then? A catch?"

"Back off, Romeo." It was hard to be annoyed when he dialed up the charisma. "I've seen all the blondes who have accompanied you to get-togethers."

"Give me a chance, Cat."

"You're incorrigible." She was amused despite herself. "Now, if there's nothing else, I have paper-work calling my name." She made to pass him. Evan caught her arm.

"I was serious, earlier." His tone dropped. "Vincent paid me a visit at my offices, wanted to set up a consult."

Catherine was surprised.

"You didn't know?"

"We didn't really talk about it…" Well, they didn't do much talking for a while there. Evan didn't have to know that.

He raised a brow. "Did I say something funny? You're grinning."

She ignored him. "When are you meeting?"

"Tomorrow night. I should have the last of the results."

Catherine nodded. "Alright. I'll see you at the warehouse."

Evan raised a brow. "Going to hold his hand?"

She took the high road and walked away, teeth gritted, head pounding.

His chuckle followed her.


	8. But You See The Real Me

It was late when Catherine left the precinct. Really late. She was halfway home when she realised she didn't want to be there. At least not alone.

It was almost midnight when she turned off her engine and slumped against the wheel. Her body felt spent. She sighed. Sometimes the grunt work was fun. Other times, especially on hot summer days, being a detective searching for a lead sucked.

She was startled when the door was wrenched open and Vincent stood outside, worry in the frown between his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

She drank in the sight of him. She was so tired. Just looking at him was a balm.

Catherine nodded but then felt tears prickle the back of her eyes. This happened when she was overly tired. Heather called her a big baby. She shook her head to dispel them and succeeded, barely. The day had been harder than she thought.

He didn't miss anything though. "Come on." Vincent helped her out and put his arm around her, offering support as he steered her towards the warehouse.

"Rough day?"

"Yes." They walked inside. "I was halfway home when I realised I didn't want to be alone."

"Sit."

Catherine took off her jacket and removed her gun, making sure the safety was on before placing it out of reach. She heard some shuffling before JT entered. He was pushing on his spectacles.

"Everything alright?"

Catherine felt bad for disturbing.

"Yes. I'm sorry to be so late. I just…" she trailed off.

A milieu of witty comebacks flashed through his mind. But seeing the slump of her shoulders, the exhaustion in the dark circles under her eyes and the greedy way she tracked Vincent's movements around the kitchen as he warmed some leftovers, he decided to keep it to himself. She wasn't up to playing verbal mambo.

"Need me to help with anything?"

"Eat." Vincent pushed a heap of pasta in front of Catherine, a tall glass of water and two aspirin. He looked over and JT and said, "Thanks JT. I've got it."

He nodded and turned to leave but looked back and saw Vincent top up Catherine's water glass, conversing in soft tones.

"She really _is_ growing on me," JT mused wryly.

* * *

"I'm done. Really. Thank you. That was _delicious_." Catherine pushed the plate away and licked her lips. She had finished the entire mound.

"Or you were famished."

Feeling slightly more human, she looked at Vincent. He sat opposite her, patiently waiting for her to finish her meal.

"Sorry for stopping by so late."

"I wasn't asleep yet." He looked sheepish. "I thought you might have come by earlier. When you didn't, I thought maybe you… needed some space…" He took a peek at her face, trying to gauge her reaction. "...or something."

He looked a little out of his depth.

Catherine rose to her feet - quite an effort in her current state - and shuffled around the table.

"Scoot."

Vincent frowned but moved his chair back, not able to hide his surprise when she sat in his lap.

She leaned in, cupped his face and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

She pulled back and looked him right in the eye. The pull, always between them, drew her closer still.

"Hi."

Vincent buried his face in her neck, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. He dropped a kiss in the spot where her neck and shoulder met, relief flooding his system. "Hi," he whispered back. She was here. _She hadn__'__t changed her mind._

His breath was warm on her skin as he breathed out.

Catherine rest her head on his shoulder. "This is nice."

He cautiously placed a soft kiss on her head. She was right, it was nice having her in his arms, in the quiet, just the two of them.

"I ur… asked your m-" he caught himself. Damn JT for planting ideas in his head. "your friend Evan if he wouldn't mind looking over some of my research, see if he can help with understanding what Muirfield did to me."

He felt her nod, but she didn't say anything.

"He's coming around tomorrow night. I'd ur… hoped you would be here. Dispel some of the testosterone in the room. Besides, JT will be home too. The last time they met JT had an unsteady rifle aimed at him and I was tossing him across the room." Vincent couldn't help but smirk _slightly_. "A level head might be needed."

"Catherine?" she peered down to look at her. "Cat?"

Her face was relaxed, her breathing even. She was fast asleep.

Vincent grimaced. She couldn't spend the night. What to do? Wake her and take her home? He glanced at the kitchen clock. 01.55. It was almost 2am. _Dammit_.

He rose and adjusted her weight, surprised that she was even lighter than he had anticipated. He walked up the stairs to his bedroom, still unsure about what to do. He stood in front of his bed, indecisive.

He decided that if she woke up when he put her down, he would take her home immediately. If she didn't, he would spend an uncomfortable night on the couch.

She didn't stir. Not even when he took off her shoes. He considered that her jeans would be uncomfortable, but there was no way he was taking it off. He wasn't that bold. Or that brave.

Vincent covered her with his duvet and turned off the lamp, leaving her mobile on the pillow next to her.

He crashed onto the couch and grimaced. Even from across the room, he could smell her like she was right next to him. He tossed, the couch too small to comfortably accommodate his bulk. Being a gentleman sucked. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

An hour later Catherine stirred. She was hot. She turned, irritated by her tight clothing. She frowned and fought to keep the fog of slumber near. She reached down and clumsily undid her jeans, pushing at the stiff fabric with her hands and legs. Her jeans hit the floor with a soft thump and she sighed. With only her light cotton T-shirt, she was instantly cooler. Catherine turned over and sunk back into peaceful oblivion.

* * *

An ambulance? No, the television? No. _What was that?!_ Catherine's alarm finally penetrated her fugue. Her eyes were grainy as she moved them behind her eyelids. It felt like she had been sleeping for minutes. She felt around for her mobile, the sound coming somewhere close to her head and deactivated it by pressing any key.

She moaned, not ready to wake up. Breathing deeply, she stiffened, her memories flooding back. Her eyes shot open. Slowly, she looked around, calling her senses into action. Light filtered in from the little patches of clear glass all around the room.

_I'm not home_. The pillow smelled like… _Vincent_. She was in his room, in his bed and she had on nothing but lace underwear and a t-shirt!


	9. Hiding In My Skin, Broken From Within

**A/N: Thank you everyone for all the reviews, follows and support. Its appreciated.**

**Two big chapters this update. Enjoy!**

* * *

Catherine shot straight up and looked around. All the tiny window panes in the large space was either covered or painted black. Sunbeams crisscrossed through any patches of clear glass it could find, dust particles dancing merrily as they hung suspended in mid-air. If she wasn't out of her element, she might have appreciated its kaleidoscopic beauty.

The room looked different first thing in the morning. Like an old attic-turned-study or a cherished library - comfortably ramshackle.

A quick glance around assured her that Vincent wasn't in the room. If he was in the warehouse though, she knew he could hear her. She searched frantically for her pants.

_Had he removed it?_ She snapped her jaw shut, equal parts outraged and embarrassed. Embarrassment won out. She jumped off the bed, sheet in tow and shuffled to the other side.

_Success_! She tried to shimmy into her jeans with the sheet still wrapped around her, but it was impossible. The jeans were too tight and she was in too much of a hurry. She dropped the sheet and tried again.

Instincts, honed over time alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. One leg in, the other out, she turned, hair flying in every direction.

"Oh! I'm sorry."

He moved fast, turning his back to her, but not before she had caught his eyes travelling over every inch of her exposed legs and bottom.

Two tugs, a quick jump and it was up. Catherine ran a quick hand through her hair, sure she looked a sight, unaware however, of just how soft and welcoming she looked to him, bathed in light as she was, standing next to the side of his bed.

With her dignity somewhat intact, she said, "Good morning. I'm decent."

Vincent turned slowly and Catherine might have laughed at how awkward he looked if she didn't feel equally awkward. A few seconds earlier he had been checking her out - that made her feel _other_ things.

"Morning." He offered a cup of coffee, taking small steps towards her. She thought it looked as if he was approaching a deer. No sudden movements.

"So… last night. I didn't mean to fall asleep…" she began. But he started talking at the same time.

"You were exhausted…"

"I remember we were talking and then the next minute…"

"I didn't want to wake you so I just…"

"You what?"

Vincent frowned. "I put you in my bed."

_My bed_. Catherine took the cup of coffee he offered and forced herself to take small sips, not gulp. Her mouth had gone bone dry. "And did you… you know…" It seemed best to just rip the band aid off. "Undress me?"

A nervous laugh. "I took off your shoes but I didn't…" She saw his eyes travel down her body as realisation dawned. "I didn't… I mean, I didn't take off your... You must have shrugged it off at some point last night. It gets hot in here."

Something rang true in the back of her mind, even if she didn't quite remember it. This time she just felt irrationally disappointed. He hadn't undressed her. Ironically, she had had on her lace undies.

Catherine chided herself for her schizophrenic emotions. Pseudo outrage that he might have undressed her and then crushing disappointment that he hadn't.

Her mobile beeped. "Crap. I still have to swing by my apartment. I'm going to be late."

For the first time since she woke up, she was in the moment. Catherine frowned. "Where did you sleep?"

He gestured across the room. "The couch."

She eyed the small piece of furniture and arched a brow. "And you actually slept? You're twice its size." She took another sip to hide her blush.

Vincent's voice was deep. He stepped closer. "My bed was kinda occupied."

Catherine grimaced. "I'm a mess."

He shook his head in denial, taking the final step. Contact. "Feeling better?"

"Ah huh." Their heads gravitated towards each other, circling tantalizingly before her mobile beeped again.

Their foreheads rested together. "Time for breakfast?"

"I can't." She sighed in disappointment. "I have to go."

With difficulty she pulled back and stepped into her shoes, tucking in her t-shirt.

"My jacket?"

"Downstairs. Come on."

Catherine took his hand and their eyes met and held for a minute before they rushed down the stairs.

JT was at the stove. It smelled like grilled cheese.

Catherine waved a greeting. She looked at Vincent appealingly. _Did JT think they had..?_ She tried not to think about it for fear of death by mortification.

Vincent passed her her firearm and her jacket.

"Thank you. For _everything_."

"Don't mention it."

She glanced over at JT who seemed intent on flipping his sandwich. She leaned in and their lips touched. Instant heat.

"Take it easy today." Vincent planted a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Bye JT." He waved the spatula in her direction.

She rushed towards the exit.

"Cat!"

She turned. "Tonight. Evan…"

Without breaking stride she shouted back. "That part I _do _remember. I'll be here."

With that, she was out the door.

"That was kind of heart-warming. You, Cat, birds chirping, rays of sunlight. I could almost hear Taylor Swift playing in the background."

Vincent rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

"I'll be right back." He went upstairs and looked around. She hadn't made much of a mess. In fact, if she hadn't just left, he wouldn't have been able to tell she had been there. _Except for the smell_.

Vincent picked up his pillow and didn't have to bring it close. Everything smelled of her floral shampoo. Sheets, duvet, pillows. _Great. Very masculine._

He tucked his sheets back in place, a tiny pearl earring popping out of the slip as he shook the pillow. It must have come off sometime during the night. He put the earring in his pocket and headed back downstairs.

Breakfast and then back to his notes.

* * *

Catherine bumped into Evan at a crime scene later that morning. They acknowledged each other with a nod.

"What have we got?"

"By the look of it, a hit and run. Eye witnesses say the victim was crossing the street when a black SUV ran the red light and took her out. Driver didn't even slow down."

Tess walked over. "Victim is Selena Ramirez, 42, mother and wife. She was on her way back to the office after brunch with her husband. We're trying to make contact."

Evan leaned over the body, examining what he could before the body was moved for the autopsy. "Skull fracture, multiple broken bones. She was hit hard."

"Any word on the type of vehicle?" The day was turning out to be a scorcher. Catherine temporarily pushed her notepad into her pocket and tied her hair into a ponytail. She breathed a sigh of relief when the breeze hit the back of her neck.

"Nothing yet. We're casing the surveillance cameras in the area, see if we get lucky." Tess's mobile rang and she took the call. "We tracked down the husband. I'll catch you back at the precinct?"

Catherine nodded. "Good luck."

"I wouldn't want to be in her shoes," Evan mused as he came to stand next to Catherine.

"Yeah. Some days are harder than others." Catherine couldn't help but think of her mother. Only, no one broke the news to her gently. She saw it all happen.

Evan was talking so she turned and gave him her attention.

"The results are quite frankly unbelievable. If I'm correct, your friend might lose his humanity."

"Excuse me, what?"

"If my tests are correct, I would hypothesise that-" he lowered his voice, "Vincent might over time, lose what makes him human in lieu of a more dominant, basic instinct."

Worry marred her features. "You're saying that he might become the beast, permanently?"

"Simply, yes."

"How sure are you of this? What's the timeline? It is conclusive? What can-"

Evan forestalled her. "I don't know. I don't have any more answers at this point. It's just a hypothesis."

People started milling about them.

"We can talk about this later."

Catherine nodded, deeply concerned.

"Hey, you're missing an earring."

"What?" Distracted, she felt her lobes. The left was empty. "Dammit!"

"Sentimental value?"

"They were my mom's. I've always been so careful with them."

"When was the last time you saw them? When you put them on this morning?"

"No, last night actually. I went to bed with them." Catherine frowned. It might be at Vincent's.

"Problem solved." He grinned. "Let's hope it's in your bed somewhere. I'll be happy to help you look."

"Oh, it might be in a bed alright…" she muttered under her breath, giving him a withering look before she headed to her car.


	10. Unveil Me, Completely

Catherine picked up an apple as she headed to the door. It was after 6.30pm and she had managed to make it home, take a shower and was on her way to the warehouse. The day had been busy, but even the frantic pace hadn't stopped her from thinking about what Evan had said.

If he was right, Vincent could become his beastly self permanently. That wasn't an option. Not for him. And selfishly, not for her. He had been through too much and didn't deserve to have more of his life stolen from him in such a cruel way.

As the beast, it would be hard to contain him and harder still to hide him. It would be a matter of time before Muirfield found him, and killed him.

She shuddered, anxious.

Her mobile rang. "Catherine Chandler."

"Cat, its Evan. Could you give me a ride?"

She frowned. "Anything wrong with your car?"

"No," his chuckle was mischievous. "Economic times are tough. Carpooling is the sustainable thing to do."

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm on my way," before hanging up unceremoniously.

* * *

Even though Evan knew about Vincent, pulling up to the warehouse with him wasn't too different from the first time. The tension was thick as smoke.

The door to the abandoned factory was open and Catherine walked in first.

"You definitely know your way around, don't you?"

"We're getting Cat her own set of keys soon," JT called from across the room. He was working at his desk.

Catherine smiled in greeting but she noticed that Evan didn't look too pleased with the declaration.

"Where's Vincent?"

"Over here." He came walking down the stairs, looking relaxed in loose fitting cargos and a t-shirt that hugged the expanse of his really impressive chest. Catherine caught herself, mouthing a mental reminder that they weren't there to appreciate his physique.

It was awkward, having Vincent and Evan in the same room together. She felt like the self-appointed buffer, considering that JT didn't seem interested in pretending that the situation was anything other than uncomfortable.

Vincent extended his hand and Evan shook it. Both of them seemed to be sizing up the other, in much the same way as they did the first evening they met. Vincent looked guarded, Evan intrigued. It made her wonder what they had said to each other when Vincent went to see Evan at the City Morgue.

"Well, now that _that_ is out of the way, I made some room over here."

JT gestured to a table on the side of the room that he had cleared from all his personal papers. At the moment, it was stacked high with reports, test results and every other piece of documentation they had on what had been done to Vincent.

For the next two hours, Vincent and JT discussed every aspect of Vincent's condition – at least everything they knew. In the beginning, Vincent looked hesitant to get into the detail. But he trusted Catherine's judgment - even if he didn't like Evan that much, he was the only resource they had who might be able to help figure out what the hell was happening to him.

"My research is inconclusive as long as I don't have samples of you in the beast state. If I can compare that to when you are at rest, it might provide a key on what triggers the reaction. And hopefully how to control it."

"But you still think that ultimately, I'll become… _it _forever."

Catherine's heart wretched at the despair on Vincent's face and the disgust in his voice. She sat close to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He didn't seem to notice.

"I didn't say that. It's simply a hypothesis. I'm learning as much doing this."

"Yeah. And hypothesis are just that - _theories_ until proven truth."

"I've looked at his findings, JT. It's a pretty real hypothesis."

"We know what triggers it. He gets upset, is threatened and boom! Terminator trance."

Evan nodded at JT. "We know what the stimuli is, but physiologically, we have no idea what happens on the inside. Perhaps if we can isolate the physiological reaction, Vincent can be taught how to control his response to the external stimuli."

"Control the rage?" Catherine asked.

"Exactly."

"I've tried that. The rage just… it just comes over me. I can't control it." Catherine could sense his frustration.

"All I'm saying is, if we understand the stimuli and we understand the physiological or even psychological reactions that happen before, during and after, there might be some kind of clue there." Evan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sounds like a plan." Catherine looked at Vincent hopefully. He brooded, deep in thought.

"I will need to collect samples from you when you are in the beast state."

Vincent frowned. "If I change and you're around, I could kill you. Correction, I likely will. _I almost did._ We can't risk it."

"We'll all be here. We can take the necessary precautions."

Vincent and Evan turned to stare at Catherine. Both said simultaneously, "You won't be here!"

JT looked from one to the other, like a spectator at a tennis match. "Well, at least you two agree on something."

"I can help!" Catherine was outraged that they would try to freeze her out.

"This is a stupid idea. I'm not endangering any of you."

"Vincent, not that I'm trying to undermine you here, but they're right. You and I have tried to experiment on the beast before," JT raised his hands in mock surrender. "Still around to tell the tale."

"JT, we've never been successful!"

"But you never hurt me. And now we have help!"

"You want me to risk you, Catherine and Evan because you _trust _I won't hurt you? Are you crazy? This thing inside me doesn't care about any of you." He looked tortured and Catherine's heart went out to him. "I am a killing machine. And under the right circumstances, I can kill you all with very little effort."

Vincent stalked across the room, pent up energy needing to be expended. He rolled his shoulders and his neck, tense.

"I agree with JT. This is the best shot you have at trying to figure out what's going on inside of you. It's this or you just accept my hypothesis."

"Look Doc, I appreciate everything you've done for me. But we're done here. I won't put any of your lives at risk. I'm better off handing myself over to Muirfield. I won't be responsible for hurting any of you."

"Vincent-"

"JT." His voice held a stern warning. For once, JT backed down. He knew that tone.

Vincent left the room, heading up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Vincent!" Catherine called. He was gone so fast.

"That sure went well." JT shook his head.

"Is this really the only option?" She looked at Evan.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I believe so."

"I'll go talk to him."

"Good luck." JT said. "When he gets like this, a mule is less stubborn."

She made to go after Vincent but Evan grasped her arm. "Cat, if he agrees, you can't be a part of this. It's too dangerous."

"If he agrees to this, I will be here, _every step of the way_." She saw the flash of surprise in his eyes at the utter conviction in her tone.

She gave Evan one last determined look, pointedly looking from her arm to his hand. He removed his grasp and let her go.

She rushed up the stairs.

"Vincent?"

She found him at the window, staring out at into the inky blackness. She came up behind him, touching him gently on the arm. He didn't react to her touch. She felt unease.

"I don't want you to be around me when I'm like that."

"I've seen you at your worst remember? And I'm still here." She gently reminded him of his words, not hers.

"That wasn't my worst. You haven't seen an inkling of what I'm capable of. I don't want you to ever see that side of me. I'm stripped of emotion, feeling, concerned with a single purpose. To kill. To hurt."

"I was there when you saved my life, both times. I've _seen_ you." She stepped between him and the window, forcing him to look at her. "Every day you save people. You go out there and you help others. Without anything in return. You're re not a monster, Vincent."

"I wasn't once. But that was a long time ago."

"You didn't ask for what was done to you, but you owe it to yourself to try." She gathered his hands in hers and brought them to her heart. "If your only concern is that I will somehow turn and run, rest assured I am not going anywhere. Do you hear me? _I am not going anywhere_."

He looked unmoved and Catherine finished her impassioned plea by pressing her lips to his and kissing him with everything she had inside of her. Slowly, she felt him respond and relief flooded through her.

Their lips parted and Catherine moved her lips along his scar, placing soft kisses from the corner of his mouth, along his cheek, to his ear and back again. Her gesture touched him deeply.

Her hand brushed across his chest, across his pocket and he remembered. He reached inside and removed the pearl earring.

"I'd thought I'd lost it." Catherine's smile was a delight. "I'd hoped I'd lost it here. Thank you. My mother gave it to me when I turned 16."

"Just lost in the covers."

"You know, I haven't slept that soundly in a long time. Must be the combination of exhaustion, a great meal… and you."

His lips curved into the slightest smile and her heart lifted. "Well, I could tell."

"I did fall asleep on you."

"You drooled."

"I did not!"

"And you snore," he used his right hand to indicate a small little.

"I do no- _Really_? You're going to go there?"

Vincent laughed, full bodied, all the way from his belly. Catherine couldn't help but giggle too. It was rare to see the lines around his face crease and the corners of his eyes crinkle attractively.

"Have we reached a consensus?"

Catherine hadn't noticed Evan standing there. Vincent must have. _How much had he heard? How much had Vincent _let _him hear? _

Catherine saw Vincent's fear, his vulnerability but mostly his hope that this would lead them one step closer to making him safe to be around. She sincerely hoped that light wouldn't be crushed.

He looked at Evan. "I have conditions but…" Then he looked at her. "Let's do it."


	11. I'm Loosening My Grasp

**A/N: Thank you everyone, for your continued support. I'm grateful!**

**One chapter update today, hopefully more later this week!**

* * *

Catherine stared at her screen, unable to focus for the hundredth time. Things were unusually quiet in the office, with Tess interviewing witnesses to the hit and run while she did some admin.

She was grateful her partner wasn't around if she was truthful. She didn't think she could handle having to pretend she wasn't stressed out.

She sat back and for a moment, giving up all pretense of working.

"_That's the final condition. You cannot be here."_

Catherine rolled her eyes again, frustrated. Vincent had had a litany of conditions, the only one that grated was that he didn't want her there during the experiment. She had tried to argue, but with both JT and Evan for backup, she was completely outnumbered.

They had agreed to run what JT called, the "terminator trance simulation" that morning. It was after 4pm and she had not heard from anyone. JT had promised to keep in touch, but not even a text message. She had tried to call Evan multiple times, the most recent an hour ago, but his line always went straight to voicemail.

She chewed on her bottom lip before getting up, reaching for her jacket. She couldn't just sit here. Something could be wrong.

She called out to a colleague as she headed for the door. "Following up on a lead."

She tried Evan again. "Dammit." Voicemail. _What was going on over there?_

* * *

Catherine tried to stick to the speed limit en route, but failed miserably. She parked and approached the warehouse with caution. From the outside, everything looked normal. Bleak, abandoned, no activity. She jogged over to the fence, as usual, making sure she wasn't followed.

But something didn't feel right. Her nerves started to tingle as she reached the door. She was about to yank it open when she heard what sounded like a stampede heading straight for her.

"What the hell-"

She had her gun out and moved out of the way. She wasn't fast enough. The door swung open, then off its hinges completely, catching her square in the chest, her cheek exploding in pain.

The impact threw her into the air, landing on her back with a painful crunch. _My ribs_. The door followed milliseconds later, smashing into her legs. She screamed.

Catherine attempted to lift her head, but it was too heavy. With effort, she tried to clear her vision, blinking rapidly. Her gun wasn't in her eye line, but she couldn't move. So it was of no use. She turned her head left, her tears falling into the dirt as her cheek lolled to the side.

The beast stood a few feet from her, as dazed as she was. He turned in her direction, sniffed and took a step, two, coming closer.

"Vincent?" she mouthed. She thought she hadn't made a sound, but maybe she had.

Her eyes widened. He looked crazed, the animal she remembered from the night her mother had been killed. Fear danced up her spine. Still, her throat refused to co-operate.

He roared, like a caged animal, on edge, ready to flee_… or attack._

_Where was JT? And Evan? _

It must have been Vincent heading for the exit. And Vincent who when bulldozing through the door had inadvertently taken her down with it.

She swallowed, her throat constricting painfully. She tasted blood, licked her lips and the metallic taste intensified.

He inched closer, his chest heaving, his hands - no, his claws - working themselves into fists. Clenching, then relaxing, clenching, relaxing.

She tried again. "Vincent." This time it was a whisper. "Vincent. It's Cat."

She couldn't move her limbs, everything was numb. The pain intensified when she tried to move her arm and she bit her lip, fighting back the urge to scream again. She was afraid she might spook him.

She noticed the ground under her cheek was wet, moisture radiating out from her head. She was sure some of it was blood and some her tears, mixing with the already crimson dirt.

She felt the blackness hover and fought hard not to succumb.

"Vincent. It's me. It's Cat."

_What had they done to him? _

He stopped, cocked his head to the side and his entire body shuddered.

Catherine closed her eyes briefly, afraid of what would come next. Afraid of what might have happened to JT and Evan, afraid of what might happen to her. But when she opened them, the beast was gone. In his stead stood Vincent, his expression horrified.

She wanted to tell him it was going to be ok, but she didn't have the strength. _He was alright. That's all that mattered._

He landed next to her in a cloud of dust, his chest bare, only jeans, no shoes. He tried to touch her, but his hands hovered, here, there, almost everywhere, not knowing what to do. He started to shake uncontrollably, his hands unsteady.

"Oh my God, Catherine, oh my God. What have I done?"

She tried to smile, but didn't realise it ended up looking macabre. He took her hand, gently. She winced. Everything hurt, everywhere.

Vincent looked her over, stood briefly to single-handedly remove the metal door from her lower limbs, throwing it across the yard. He touched her legs softly, but firmly, checking, before coming back into her line of vision. Gently, he pushed her hair from her face.

"Where does it hurt? Can you feel your legs?"

Catherine gulped in a breath of air. _Was she supposed to feel so cold?_ "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere."

"Can you feel your legs?"

"No." Panic settled, she spoke slowly. "Oh my God. I can't feel my legs."

"Vincenttt!"

She could see JT stood at the door, relief flooding his face when he saw his friend. It was quickly replaced when he noticed the massacre at his feet.

When JT kneeled next to Catherine, he didn't even try to hide the horror and sheer panic in his voice. She noticed a bruise forming on the side of his face.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."

"Catherine!" Evan was there. He had a gash on the side of his head, but he seemed fine. "What have you done?"

"I didn't know she was outside the door," was all Vincent could mutter desperately. He leapt up, stepping back, giving them space. "She can't feel her legs. I hit her hard." His voice trailed off, the edge of steel evident from his tone.

She felt his withdrawal, like it was something tangible. She wanted to tell him everything would be alright, that it was an accident, but she didn't have the words. She felt _broken_.

"JT, get my car." Evan threw his keys.

JT was in a daze and didn't respond.

"Now!"

Vincent's friend shook off the haze and responded, picking up the keys that had landed in the dirt and jumped to his feet.

"How are we going to fix this?" JT ran his hand through his hair, his thoughts racing, none of it making any sense. "How are we going to fix this?" He wasn't aiming his question at anyone in particular.

Catherine didn't know the answer to that question. With her life draining from her, darkness hovering so tantalisingly, promising relief from her pain, she knew that her life was in danger. That Vincent, a man she cared for deeply had been the cause of it. And that they had no way of explaining what had happened without incriminating him.

She struggled for breath. Evan fussed around her, she didn't see him. She looked at Vincent, standing off to the side, his expression hard, cold, tormented. She tried to reach him with her mind, trying to will him to look into her eyes. But if he felt her need, he ignored it.

Catherine heard the crunch of tyres as Evan's SUV pulled up. JT jumped out.

"My bag, its in the back."

JT ran over with Evan's medical bag.

"Take my phone, call the hospital. Tell them we're bringing in a female, she has been seriously injured. We're going to need a CAT scan, X-Rays, her legs might be broken, possible spinal cord damage. We're going to need the ER. They're on speed dial 2."

Catherine's mind stopped at _spinal cord damage. Would she be able to walk again?_

"How are we going to explain this?"

Evan's eyes turned hard. "We're going to tell the truth."

JT sputtered. "Are you crazy? They'll lock him up, kill him!"

"Right now, that's frankly the last of my concern." His tone brooked no opposition.

JT looked conflicted. He looked from Catherine, to Evan to Vincent.

"Make the call dammit!" Evan shouted as he put a stereoscope to her chest.

He dialed, his gaze meeting Vincent's. Catherine saw Vincent nodding at JT, telling his friend it was alright. _He was giving himself up_.

"No!" she coughed.

Evan shushed her. "Don't try to talk. You're going to be alright."

She took a breath, willing her body to hold on just a while longer. "It was an… acci-dent. Do- don't ha-nd him… over. Ev-, ple- please. They'll hu-rt him."

"He's bloody near killed you!"

"He won't survive this." Catherine didn't know that JT knew that what she meant by _this_ was what Vincent had done to her. Even if it was an accident. He wouldn't recover from the guilt.

"Keep him safe." Blood filled her mouth. "Please. _Please_. "

The last thing she saw was Evan's angry face.

"Dammit, she's out."

"Hospital's expecting us."

JT helped Evan put Catherine in the car, gently.

Vincent stood off to the side, watching. He couldn't touch her. He hadn't said anything in a long time. Finally, to JT he said, "Go. Make sure she's ok. Tell her… tell her I'm sorry."

JT just nodded, knowing nothing he could say would make it better for his friend to bare.

To Evan, "I'm handing myself over. Just get her what she needs."

"Believe me, right now, I want nothing more than to see you behind bars," he spat out, "but she doesn't want that. And for now, I'm going to honour that wish. But if she dies…"

JT tried to interject. "We're partly to blame here. We gave him the-"

"If she dies, you won't need to come for my blood. I'll serve it up willingly."

Vincent watched as Evan sped off, his mind already making plans. As soon as he knew she was alright, this would all be over. He had been a fool for thinking he could have a normal life.

Catherine had been wrong when she said he wasn't a monster. And now she was paying the price for her mistake.


	12. There's No Need To Mask My Frailty

A month. That's how long it's been since she'd seen or heard from him. Catherine shifted uncomfortably, ready to go home, ready to be out of the clinical environment of the hospital and ready to be among her own things.

Her doctors told her it was a miracle that she had survived her fall with so little residual trauma. Between Evan and JT, they had concocted some story about her chasing up a lead at the university, inadvertently crossing through a section of campus that was under construction and accidentally falling one story.

Evan claimed to have been with her at the time, JT had been lecturing nearby, which was why they had brought her into the emergency room.

To her keen detective mind, the story made little sense. But sometimes people believed things _because _it was so implausible. It helped that Evan was highly respected and so was JT, at the University anyway.

Thus far, she had managed to avoid too many questions because honestly, she hadn't initially remembered much about what had happened. When the memories slowly returned, she was too exhausted to think about it, too anxious to deal with the consequences. But after a month, she knew Tess wanted answers. Until now, Catherine had managed to keep her at bay with talk of her recovery.

She'd fractured her right tibia, a stable fracture, making healing less complicated. After weeks in the cast, it was replaced with a functional brace. She had a couple bruised, but not broken ribs, a tender wrist and a heavily swollen face. She'd had some internal bleeding, but with surgery, it had been stopped.

After a month in recovery, she _almost_ felt human again. Almost. Her wrist had healed, her ribs didn't need to be tied quite so tightly and she could manage - slowly and with some pain - to hobble on crutches for short duration.

Physical therapy had been agony initially, but she knew that to speed up her recovery, she needed to push herself hard.

The swelling in her face had subsided after two weeks, but there was more than enough evidence of trauma in the form of scabs, a cut under her right eye and her colouring, which was slowly returning to normal after going from black to blue, purple to lavender, a fiery, angry red and finally a mellow yellow.

She was ready to go home. _More than ready._

The door swung open and instead of Tess, Evan walked in, a fresh bouquet of yellow daisies winking at her.

She couldn't help but smile.

"Ah! Sunshine."

"Those for me?"

"What? These? No. They're for the old lady two doors down. Heading there on my way out." Evan grinned. "You can sniff them in the meantime."

"Thank you." Catherine reached for the flowers with her right hand, the left one still experiencing slight discomfort. "You really shouldn't have. You've filled this room with half the flowers available in the state." She buried her face in the pretty flowers. They smelled like sunshine and happiness - if that had a scent. So full of promise.

Irrationally, she felt saddened.

Evan picked up on her mood. "Everything alright?"

"I'm just glad to be going home."

"Tess told me Heather's moving back to help out."

"I didn't want her to. But I realised that I did need some help, at least for a little while. So…"

Evan started talking about her recovery, how well she was doing, trying a variety of inanities to avoid the elephant in the room.

"Evan-" she cut him off. "Have you heard from JT?" He was frowning so she just ploughed on. "How is… how is he…?" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "How is Vincent?"

Evan pushed his hands into his pockets. He hadn't stopped frowning. "The last I heard, JT told me they were "getting out of dodge". That last bit is a direct quote. I assumed he meant that they were leaving town, starting fresh somewhere else."

Catherine felt panic rise inside, confusion swell, relief they were alright but mostly… hurt. They had left, _he _had left, _without saying goodbye_.

"They left." She licked her lips, trying to maintain her composure. "How long ago?"

"A few days after your accident."

"Oh."

"Cat, you aren't seriously considering making contact with him are you? After what that monster's done to you?!"

"He's not a monster! Eva-"

"You're right. Sorry. I'm sorry. I know he's not a monster," he thrust one hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "Dammit Cat. You're lucky to be alive. Can you just focus on your recovery right now?"

"Ok. Alright, alright," she tried to placate him, rapidly developing a headache which accompanied the hole where her heart was supposed to be. "Evan, we're friends." She saw the disappointment flash in his eyes. "I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. And for Vincent. You don't get to judge me for things you have no way of understanding."

"What's to understand? That you and Vincent have some kind of bond that transcends space and time?" He scoffed.

_I thought we did_. "He saved my life."

"And now he almost killed you. I guess you should quit while you're ahead." he sighed, relenting. "Listen, all I ask is that you take some time, recuperate, get some distance from this chaos. For once Cat, do what he asks you. He's done the right thing. _He _wants you to stay away."

_That hurt. _She smiled, a tight smile, turning away when the door opened, blinking back the miserable tears that yearned to fall. It was Tess.

"Ready to get going?"

She sucked it all in, like a big girl, trying to be genuine and in the moment.

"Yes! Please, take me home!"

"Come on, in you go."

Slowly, Catherine lowered herself into the wheelchair as Tess pushed her out. Evan grabbed her crutches and the flowers, trailing behind them.

"Your sister is waiting at the car and the _very _cute security guard at the nurses' station is bringing down the all flowers Evan bankrupted the florists with." Tess leaned down and whispered in her ear. "What did I interupt? I could cut the tension with a hot knife."

Catherine just shook her head and smiled. It was a good thing that Tess couldn't see that it didn't reach all the way to her eyes.

* * *

"Cat, you sure you don't need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"Are you sure?" Catherine watched her sister walk into her bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. "You haven't really been yourself." Heather gave a short laugh. "Well, I know there hasn't really been cause to celebrate. But you're different. I thought when you got home from the hospital last week that you just needed to settle in. But you seem… sad."

She reached for her sister's hand and her tears threatened. Again, she held them back. "I'm fine. Just adjusting to being co-dependent. I'm glad you're here though."

Heather smiled and leaned in for a gentle hug. "So am I. Love you."

"I love you too."

"Get some rest. You have your physical therapy tomorrow morning."

Catherine nodded and watched her sister leave. "Good night."

* * *

Two hours later, she still lay awake. The apartment was quiet. She could hear the noise from the streets down below, the city truly never slept.

Like she did every night for the past month and a half, she replayed every moment of that day through her mind, trying to piece it all together. Evan hadn't told her anything that had happened. She had been too exhausted to ask and later, she knew he hadn't wanted to talk about it.

She saw his face. The absolute horror, the sheer terror, the pain at having hurt her, the disgust at what he was. Right then, he had hated himself.

Catherine hadn't cried. Not once since she woke up in the hospital. She was strong for her father and Heather, brave for Tess, in control for Evan.

But in the dark, she felt the painful burning behind her eyes, the sting of unshed misery. She blinked, rapidly, but her chest constricted and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to breathe slowly - deep breath in, out with a swoosh. It hitched but eventually, her emotions betrayed her.

One moist rivulet raced down her cheek, swiftly replaced by another, then another. Her breath left her in short bursts, her attempts to control it failing miserably.

She let go. Catherine allowed her misery, her anger, her feelings of frustration, her fatigue, her hopelessness to wash over her. Sobs escaped but still she tried to be quiet.

He'd left, without saying goodbye. _Had he even checked if she was alright? _

"Vincent," she whispered into the darkness. Calling to him, knowing he wouldn't come, knowing he couldn't hear her. "_Vincent_."

He was somewhere in the city, the state, the world, angry with himself, guilt ridden. Was he lonely?

_Just like me._

Her body was healing. But right then, everything hurt. Her tears were a cold comfort.

* * *

Out on the fire escape, Vincent closed his eyes, his head resting against the cool brick wall outside Catherine's apartment.

He had needed to know she was alright. Initially, he had vowed not to leave the warehouse. But then they moved to a safe house across town. A similar abandoned building, JT's Plan B.

JT had kept tabs on her progress, he hadn't had to ask. Without prompting, he received daily updates. He had thought that not seeing her would make it easier, a clean break. It hadn't helped.

So here he was, skulking outside her window.

She called his name, a mere whisper. He tensed, thinking that perhaps she knew he was there. She didn't.

He heard her mewing cries as she tried to control her sobs. Again and then again, she called out to him. Just whispers. But he heard her. His fists clenched, his heart pounded.

"_Catherine_."

He couldn't go to her. He stopped himself from smashing his fist into the wall in frustration. They had no future. It was better this way.

That night, her cries were the soundtrack to his restless sleep.


	13. Because You See, The Real Me

**A/N: To everyone reading, following and reviewing, I might not respond to all reviews, but please know that I appreciate it greatly. Thank you for taking the time. It's not overlooked. Two chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

The backup plan had always been in place. The new base was an old factory on the outskirts of town. While contractors wanted to turn the place into new production lines, the environmentalists were up in arms about the impact on the nearby ecosystem. While they were in limbo, locked in legal battles - Vincent and JT had a home.

The factory was as nondescript as the warehouse had been, although, nearly twice its size. The floors were cement, the walls raw red brick, the ceilings high. Awfully drafty. At the back, the kitchen was still in working order. Close by were a few smaller rooms and what would have been a large communal bathroom. A few rugs, their ramshackle furnishings and it was home.

JT sat across from Vincent, eating their dinner in silence. Since _that day_ – which had become the official way he referred to the accident, the friends had not had much to say, or rather, Vincent said very little.

Initially, JT had tried to engage him by talking about local, then international news, movies, current affairs, celebrities - eventually, even Catherine. Vincent had officially become monosyllabic.

He knew he had been to see her once, one night, roughly a month ago. Whether they spoke or not, he wasn't sure. But since then, Vincent spent every waking moment either working out or working on his research. Although JT didn't know what Vincent did when he was at work, he would bet his last dollar that Vincent was staying away from Catherine. And the deprivation was torturous.

JT didn't remember it being so rough on him the first time they went underground. But back then, his friend hadn't been in love. It was more than just missing being outside, walking among people, playing a game of basketball with the guys. It was all those things personified because for a little while, he had had someone else to talk to, someone else to confide in, and someone to love.

He knew it was hard. But there wasn't anything to be done until Vincent could control the rage. He was determined to help his friend in any way he could. Which meant that what he had to say wasn't going to be easy.

"So ur… how's the research coming?"

Vincent pushed his pasta around on his plate. "I'm trying out some new angles. Nothing looks promising yet."

"I had a visitor at the University," JT saw his friend's mild interest. "It was Evan."

Vincent pushed his plate away, having lost his appetite. "Evan?"

"He wants to continue the trial."

Vincent pushed back from the table, standing up. "You're kidding?"

JT stood too, feeling at a distinct disadvantage. "Now, before you get all worked up-"

"You know what happened the last time! You know I could have killed all of you!"

"Look, you didn't."

Vincent gave him a frosty stare. "Don't."

"You know what, I will." JT had had enough. "You need to hear this!" Vincent had started to walk away and froze in his tracks. "It's been two months big guy! Two months since _that day _- the day _we all _made mistakes."

JT saw Vincent's shoulders slump.

"We should have taken better precautions. I should have prepared Evan better. We should never have given you such a high dose of adrenalin."

"JT-"

"And Catherine should never have been here! That's not on you. She made a judgement call too. It was the wrong one."

"You're blaming her for what I did to her?! Unbelievable!"

"No! No." JT shook his head vigorously. "But you can't blame yourself for everything that went wrong. You made a rule that she shouldn't be here." He took a step towards his friend. "You have to forgive yourself."

Vincent didn't say anything. So JT took it as a cue to continue.

"Evan came to see me at the University last week."

He turned around. "Last week. And you tell me this now?"

JT shrugged. "You've had a lot on your mind. Besides, every time I tried to have a conversation with you it was like talking to R2D2."

When Vincent frowned, JT said, "You just made indiscernible sounds. Never mind. The point is, he's relooked at your case. He came by to tell me that he would be willing to help."

"Why would he do that? He doesn't even like me."

"I don't know. But he did have a stipulation."

Vincent raised a brow.

"He'll help you, but you have to stay away from Catherine. She can't know."

"I don't need this."

"I beg to differ." JT decided to play his final card. "Do you want to see her again?"

"What?"

"Simple question. Do you want to see her again? I was here the morning she left after the vertical tango you two did upstairs. I saw the glow of love and stuff."

Vincent scoffed. "We didn't do anything."

"Beside the point. _Do you want to see her again_?"

"Every day." He sounded out each syllable. "But I can't. I can't risk it." He felt like throwing something.

"I agree. You can't risk it."

"Then what's the point of your quest-"

"You can't risk it _until _you find out what's going on. We figure this out, who knows."

Vincent shook his head.

"Stop with the moping already!"

Vincent's eyes narrowed, clearly irritated.

"Seriously. It's been two months and I really can't take much more of this… inaction. Evan wants to help. We don't have many other options. We could go at this alone and never make any headway. To my mind, that's like a decade sharing a living space with a bear who has a thorn in his paw - said paw packing the punch of mjolnir. I won't last that long."

"Alright!"

"Fine!"

"Great!"

They were both huffing in annoyance. Vincent was the first to relent.

"I lost sight JT, of what I am. I knew it was risky, but not being with her, not having her as a part of my life, it made me careless and I... when I saw her lying there, so small and afraid but still… still _defending_ me. Still… putting me first. I realised that I couldn't do that to her. Her faith in me almost got her killed."

"She loves you."

His shoulders rose and fell. "I know."

JT walked over in comfort. "It's going to be alright."

"Thanks, JT." Vincent sighed. "I'll go see Evan."

"Sure?" his eyebrows arched high.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Vincent grabbed his jacket, pushing his baseball cap low and headed out.

"I didn't mean you needed to go _right now_."

JT thought he saw a ghost of a smile pass over his friends face. He hoped he had done the right thing.

* * *

Evan was concentrating hard, focused on his laptop, trying to get the final parts of his forensic report done. The case was particularly harrowing. He wanted to make sure he played a part in making sure someone got to speak for the little boy who had been killed by a stray bullet.

"Evan."

He looked up, startled. Vincent stood just outside the door, shadows from the corridor giving him an eerie appearance. He stepped inside and into the light.

"Vincent." He stood, stepping back from his desk, clearly surprised. Vincent was the last person he had expected to see. Later, when he was alone, Evan would wonder why they hadn't bothered to shake hands.

Vincent's hands were buried deep into his pockets. Evan gestured to the large chair opposite the desk. Vincent declined the seat. He shrugged and sat back down.

"JT told me you stopped by."

Evan nodded. "I have some new data from our 'experiment gone wrong'."

Vincent tried to hide his sneer and managed to, barely.

"You don't like me, Doc. Why do you want to do this?"

"I asked myself that right after I spoke with your friend. I'm a scientist. I feel sure can help you."

"You're all charity. I'm just your experiment."

"To me, yes. To her, no." Evan saw him tense and decided to put his cards on the table. "I've looked over the data from that day. I had completely misjudged the amount of adrenalin we gave you to induce the fugue."

Vincent started to say something but Evan continued. "I admit I was wrong. You warned me. I chose to assume I knew better. I apologise. We all had a part to play in what happened."

Vincent was reminded of his conversation with JT.

"Catherine reminded me that what happened was an accident. I guess helping you is my way of making amends."

Vincent bit his tongue to stop himself from asking about her. Instead, he asked about the research findings.

"When I extrapolated the information from the software programme I used to monitor your vitals, I made some interesting discoveries. We've believed that your trance has always been induced by rage. What if it wasn't rage? What if it was hormonal?"

"I'm not going through menopause."

Evan actually laughed. "I think it might be growing pains."

Evan saw Vincent's skepticism. "Allow me to explain. I hypothesise-"

"A new hypothesis."

"-that part of what made you a good candidate for the programme was the fact that you were young, eager and at the tail end of hormonal maturity. The rage came easier because psychologically and emotionally you had a shorter fuse. The blackout you had when we met, might have been your body's way of recharging. In a nutshell, I think your beast is just maturing."

"What happened to your theory that I'm losing my humanity?"

"It might still be on the cards."

"You want to give it another try don't you?"

Evan stood, walking over to the window and back, needing to stretch his legs, relieve some of the tension.

"Yes. I think we've taken a step in the right direction. But we need more."

Vincent shook his head, breathing out heavily. He didn't really have a choice.

"We take the right precautions this time. No injuries. I can't get out of the cage."

Evan nodded. "Agreed."

"Alright. When do you want to do this?"

"I'll need a day to get set up. Day after tomorrow?"

Vincent made a move to leave.

"Where do I-?"

"The warehouse."

Evan frowned. "I thought you moved?"

"We did."

"Ah, keeping the lair a secret. Right."

Vincent chose to ignore the mocking tone. "I'll help JT set up. See you on Thursday."

Vincent was almost out of the door before Evan spoke. "She's healing. It was slow, but she pushed herself. She's back at work."

"Does she ever… ask about..." he decided to use the plural, "us?"

"No."

_That hurt._

"Well, not to me anyway."

_Oh._

Vincent turned, meeting Evan's gaze head-on. "I'll agree to your terms. I'll stay away from her."

* * *

If they got the beast in control, maybe he could… Vincent squashed the hope. He didn't know what he would say to her after all this time. He'd played the fantasy numerous times.

He always came up empty.


	14. Painted On, Life Is Behind A Mask

"I noticed you and Evan are getting closer." Tess wiggled her brows as she perched on Catherine's desk. It was the end of her first week back and it felt good to be where the action was.

Three months had passed since her accident. Three months since she had seen or heard from Vincent. She thought about him every morning when she woke up, and every evening as she closed her eyes. During the day, it was sporadic. She considered that making progress since initially, he had consumed most of her waking thoughts.

But she couldn't mope around anymore. She needed to get on with her life. Once she made the decision, somehow, taking action wasn't so hard.

Catherine shrugged. "We're friends."

"He likes you."

"I like him too."

"Didn't work out with mystery man then?"

Catherine gave her partner a tight smile. "He kind of bailed on me."

Tess made a disgusted sound. "Men."

"Yeah."

"You going to give the ME a chance?"

"We're taking it slow. As in, a snails pace. I don't know if I'm ready for full on romantic drama."

"Get ready. Evan is a great guy. And he won't wait around forever."

* * *

Catherine pondered Tess's words as she left the precinct. Maybe Tess was right. They had spent some time together since her accident. A lot more than they usually did. He'd asked her to the movies once, but that had reminded her too much of her time with Vincent. She didn't tell him that though, so instead, they had informal dinners.

He'd pretty much made his intention clear. Catherine didn't actively encourage him, but she hadn't given him the green light either.

She did like Evan. And maybe it wasn't the burning, fated, my-soul-belongs-to-you kind of feeling she has - she _had _- for Vincent. But the there were numerous examples of great romances that were built on friendship.

Maybe her expectations were too high. Experiencing the right mix of chemistry and soul searing intimacy with someone couldn't possibly come around twice in a lifetime. Catherine made a decision and looked at the time. Evan would still be at the office.

* * *

Parking was a nightmare, but after circling the block twice, she managed to get lucky. Hard work in recovery meant that she was fully mobile, although she still wasn't as fast as she would have liked.

The usual smells assaulted her. Chloroform, sterile cleaning agents, the cold. She tried to be quiet, hoping to surprise him. She could hear his muffled voice. _Was he on the phone?_

The blinds to his office were drawn and Catherine frowned. It was unusual, but understandable. She took a deep breath, told herself she was doing the right thing, reminded herself that Vincent Keller wouldn't be the reason she remained single forever and then knocked quickly, opening the door.

"Evan, are you-"

Catherine felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been poured down her back, wreaking havoc with her breathing, sending her central nervous system into distress while her legs wanted to give out on her.

Evan was hunched over his desk, clearly in the midst of explaining something. A quick look around the room produced flip charts with equations, but she didn't pay it too much attention.

Next to Evan, equally intense, was Vincent.

_Vincent._

When their eyes met, hers were shocked, a deer caught in the headlights. His were initially surprised, then guilty, then it softened, attempting to convey something... anything.

Catherine blinked rapidly, trying to determine whether this was just another of the dreams she had about seeing him. No matter how many times she blinked, he stayed.

Her eyes darted to Evan quickly, afraid that if she looked away Vincent would disappear. He didn't. And the look on Evan's face confirmed that this was no dream.

"Cat-"

"What's going on here?" She looked at the charts again as realisation dawned. "Have you been working together?"

She couldn't mask the disbelief and hurt from her voice. _All this time_.

"Cat, please. Come on in. We'll explain." Evan's tone was placatory, reminding her of a parent trying to reason with a teenager. He came closer, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture.

"You've been working together." It was a statement.

Evan looked over at Vincent. Vincent didn't look back. If Catherine had been looking at him, she would have seen him drinking in the sight of her. But she wasn't looking at him. She _couldn't. _So she focused on Evan instead.

"Have you?" she demanded. Her voice raised a little.

"Yes, yes we have. But its-"

"Since the accident?"

"Cat, come on." Evan realised she was in no mood to be pacified. "Not right after, no. But for the past couple weeks."

"_Weeks_?!" she exclaimed, hurt, outraged, angry.

Vincent had not said a word yet. He did now. He said her name.

"Catherine-"

Her heart fluttered a little at that husky tone. She steeled herself as her gaze zeroed in on him.

She couldn't help but notice that physically, he looked much the same. He looked _perfect _to her. _Had their separation not affected him at all? _Had she not been as upset, she might have noticed the strain in his eyes, the longing, the hurt there too.

But she was too angry and too devastated that two people she trusted had lied to her for all this time.

When their eyes clashed, his words died on his lips, inadequate.

Catherine waited, but nothing came. She shook her head, disappointed. She let go of the doorknob, not even aware she had used it as a crutch, and turned to leave.

"Cat!" Evan called after her. She just kept going. If she let go of the anger, all that would be left would be tears of hurt, tears of devastation, tears of humiliation. Because after all the time that had passed, all she really wanted to do was to launch herself into his arms and hold on forever.

* * *

Vincent watched her go, a physical pain radiating throughout his chest at the hurt and betrayal in her eyes.

Evan didn't miss the fact that he looked like a thirsty traveller who had spotted his life sustaining oasis. But as the mirage appeared, it dissipated as quickly, leaving hopelessness in its wake.

"I'm going after her," Evan said as he shrugged out of his lab coat.

"No, I'll go." It was time.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I do." Vincent grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "I don't need your permission."

Evan's temper flared. "Look, we had a deal-"

"To hell with your deal."

* * *

Vincent headed for her apartment, knowing instinctively that she would seek solace at home. He steeled his resolve.

Everything he had practiced saying to her fled. Instead, his mind was a jumbled mess. All he knew was that he had to try to explain. He hoped to God she would understand and be able to forgive.

* * *

Catherine burst though her front door, the frame rattling with the force. Her keys skid across the counter as she flung it across the room. Her jacket went next. She paced, she huffed, she wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound. Finally, she willed herself to be still. She slumped into the couch, head cradled in her hands and prayed for a leash on her swirling emotions.

"Catherine."

His voice. _His voice. _She closed her eyes and allowed the deep baritone, pitch and intonation to ricochet around in her subconscious.

"Catherine."

It really wasn't a dream.

She looked up and he stood in her lounge, an awkward, nervous tension radiating off him in waves. He was twisting his baseball cap in his hands, his jacket discarded on the windowsill where he had entered.

"Catherine."

She rose and walked towards him with righteous indignation. She saw his apprehension rise with every step she took. Instinctively, he took a step back, almost apologetic. In any other circumstance, she might have laughed that this powerful super soldier was afraid of her wrath.

Catherine launched herself at him, planning an assault. It didn't quite go that way. As soon as her hands touched his body, they didn't hit, they curled around him, finding the nape of his neck and hanging on. Like vines, she clung, wrapping her legs around his midsection, trying to get as close as she could.

She felt his surprise, his hesitation and then, submission.

Vincent's arms came around her in a bone crushing, soul stirring embrace. His head descended to her neck and rested there.

She closed her eyes, feeling whole for the first time in months. The anger still simmered, but for a moment, she allowed herself to feel relief that he was alright, that he was there and that _he was in her arms_.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, over and over again.

Catherine felt moisture on her neck. _His tears_. Her healed heart broke a little.

"I know," she whispered back, pulling him into her. "I know."


	15. Self-Inflicted Circus Clown

**A/N: I really have very little words to eloquently say how much the feedback from all of you has meant to me. I am overwhelmed by the enthusiastic way this story has been received. As always, but not said lightly, thank you for the reads, reviews, follows, favourites and the like. **

**Two chapters. I wade into the fluff, way into the fluff. Enjoy!**

**PS: For those who asked, the chapter titles are from the song _The Real Me, by Natalie Grant._ It's one of my favourite Vincat/Catcent songs.  
**

* * *

How long they held each other like that, Catherine wasn't sure. Eventually though, her legs slid down his waist and her feet touched the ground.

"I'm heavy," she clarified at his querying look.

"Super soldier." He grinned. "You weigh nothing."

"What every woman wants to hear."

They smiled and it felt good. But there was still the elephant in the room.

Catherine's arms fell to her side. She immediately felt bereft but took a step back, putting some distance between them. She couldn't think when they were that close.

"We ur… need to talk."

"Yes, we do," she motioned for him to take a seat. He declined anything to drink so she took a seat on the couch opposite him. She felt stiff and formal, a stark contradiction to their embrace just minutes earlier.

"So…" he began. "How have you been?" He honestly didn't know where to begin.

"You never said goodbye." She countered with a question of her own. "Why didn't you say goodbye?"

He looked away, guilty. "What I did to you-"

"It was an accid-"

"I know. But it happened. _By my hand_. And when I saw you lying there, gasping for air, still trying to protect me, I just… I wanted us to make a clean break. I wanted you to heal without having to worry about me."

"I worried more not knowing where you were!"

He winced at her tone and she took some small pleasure in making him squirm.

"I thought what I was doing was best. I'm sorry."

She started to say something else, but thought better of it.

"I went by the warehouse a few weeks back. The place was empty, except for the cage. It's like you were never there."

"We moved. New place, clean break."

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't elaborate.

"You're not going to tell me where?"

"For now, no. It's safer that way."

She wanted to argue but it wasn't a _no no_, it was a _for now _no. She was appeased.

"And Evan?"

"Uh, yeah. He approached JT. I thought that if we could work together, maybe someday, I would be able to be around you without fear of hurting you." He looked earnest. "I can't ever hurt you again."

She almost caved and threw herself at him again.

"Vincent, I don't know how many times I still have to say this to you to make myself clear. I can make my own choices. It's my right as a human being. I cannot be dictated to by you or anyone else."

"I won't let you do anything that will put your life in danger."

"You won't _let _me?" She fumed. "You can't protect me from everything!"

"But I can protect you from me!"

"Do you think it was easier? Being apart?"

"No."

"Because it wasn't! It was hell and I-" It took her a minute to realise he had answered in the negative. "You agree it was hard?"

"God yes," he said in a solemn rush. "JT doesn't know what to do with me anymore. He claims I've become monosyllabic," he said, looking sheepish.

Catherine smiled, _a small one_. "You're speaking in full sentences right now."

"Probably because I'm sitting across from the cure to what ails me."

She sighed. "Stop saying things like that to me!"

"It's the truth."

"But you're making it hard for me to stay mad at you. And I'm mad Vincent!" She was impassioned.

"I'm mad that you left - without saying goodbye. I'm mad that you made a decision about our relationship - yes, _I said the R-word _- without consulting me, like I didn't have any say in the matter. I'm angry that you've been working with Evan - but not allowing me to help. But mostly… mostly I'm angry because being apart from you was the worst time of my life."

She took a breath before rambling on. "And now you're here, _perfect_, _unaffected _and what does it mean? Is this your goodbye? Do you leave here tonight and I never see you again? Does this spiral of loneliness and _yearning _stay with me forever?"

Her eyes filled and he was lost.

Vincent crossed to the couch, taking her in his arms.

"You really believe," he said urgently, "that I was unaffected? That every minute away from you wasn't torture? I was going out of my mind. Wondering how you were, thinking that if I saw you it would be better. It wasn't."

"You saw me?"

"Once. The night you came home from the hospital."

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. "I called for you." He thumbed it away.

"I know." Their foreheads touched. "I missed you." A beat. "I'm sorry."

She sniffed. "You said that already."

He shrugged. "I can't seem to stop."

She pulled away and looked him right in the eye. "I can't handle you leaving again."

"I'm sorry for thinking I could make decisions for you. Cat, I… I worked with Evan because I wanted some reprieve from this monster inside of me. But it never mattered. Not to you. You see me. _Me_. The real me. _Inside_. And you're still here. You've always been here."

"Finally, he gets it," she whispered, touching her hand to his heart. "Remember that, Batman, next time you think of taking off. I _see _you. _The real you_."

He kissed the inside of her palm. "It's Superman now."

She frowned, flabbergasted. "You fly?"

He laughed. "No. Never mind."

She felt the pull. "Vincent?" She slid closer. The electricity between them was as strong as it's ever been.

"Hmm?" His hand was already moving around her back, cupping her head.

"Shut up and kiss me."

His lips hovered above hers, their eyes locked and everything that they had been through in the last three months passed between them. The pain, the anguish, the anger. _The joy_.

"Cat," he whispered, just before his lips met hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" The anticipation was killing her. She moved over, straddling him.

"_Promise_."

Their lips collided, their tongues danced. They inhaled each other, not close enough, not touching enough. Nothing was enough.

"Vincent?" She wretched apart, their breath mingling, chests heaving.

She moistened her swollen lips, her hands running over his chest, his running up her back, around her neck. She forgot her train of thought for a minute, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.

"Yes, Catherine?"

She loved the way he said her name. Warm, raspy, _sexy_. She bit her lip when he cupped her butt, pulling them closer.

She opened her eyes, dazed, drugged, _in love_.

"Vincent… make love to me."

Catherine had no way of knowing his mouth had gone bone dry. "It's been a while. I-"

She put a finger to his lips. "Me too."

His gaze bore into her so intently, she was sure he saw into her soul. He stood, wrapping her legs around his waist before walking to her bedroom.

Catherine felt weightless. She knew he was exceptionally strong, but the effortless demonstration of his strength made her feel feminine, beloved and cherished. Her insides contracted with pleasure.

"You sure?" he asked finally.

"More than anything, ever."

Their lips fused, never separating, even as he lowered her to the bed, his broad shoulders caging her in. Hands were everywhere, exploring, tongues duelled and lips tasted.

Vincent pulled apart to yank off his shirt and Catherine bit her lip in delight at how tussled his hair had become from her hands constantly running through it.

His chest was warm to her touch, the curves and angles hard, defined, free of any trace of hair.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

He responded with a kiss that liquefied her insides, heat pooling between her thighs.

He undressed her slowly, savouring every piece of opened skin. Catherine felt her eyes burn with emotion and squeezed them shut as he kissed her shinbone - right where it had been broken, her once bruised ribs - each one, lingering lovingly, her wrist - soft, butterfly kisses and finally, her face.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

He settled between her thighs, lavishing her with tender kisses, the sweetness overwhelming.

Their eyes locked and she let everything she felt for him flow out of her.

He pushed, she accepted. When his body entered hers, Catherine sighed, he groaned.

They joined hands and tumbled off the cliff together.

"Beautiful," he whispered, echoing her earlier words.


	16. I'm Tired Of The Song and Dance

They couldn't stop touching each other. The nape of her neck, the hard planes of his chest, the slope of her back, his smooth shoulders, the curve of her thigh. Catherine discovered a new addiction - running her hands through his hair.

They lay side by side, her head resting on his shoulder, his head close by, their legs meshed close, sharing whispered words.

"You alright?" she asked, unable to keep an ear-splitting grin from lighting up her face.

"Are you alright?" He leaned over and kissed her lips softly.

"Can't you tell?"

He chuckled, pleased he had satisfied her. "No, I mean your injuries."

"A little stiff some mornings. I still see the physical therapist once a week. But the worst is over."

Catherine decided to lighten the mood. "Well, what we just did certainly didn't hurt."

His smile was back.

"You're grinning uncontrollably," she said with a snigger.

"So are you."

"I'm happy."

She saw his gaze drop.

"Vincent?" She started to move back, alarmed.

He held her steady. She saw a myriad of unnamed emotions pass over his face.

"I love you." He was sheepish, adoringly shy.

Her eyes filled, shimmered and spilled over as she threw herself into his arms.

"I love you too," she said in-between the kisses she reined all over his face. "I love you."

Their muffled laughter filled the room, both sobering when he rolled her beneath him. Laughter turned to blissful sighs and delightful moans.

* * *

"You're not going to tell me are you?"

He pretended not to know what she was talking about.

"Tell me." She tickled his ribs and he squirmed.

"What?" He tried hard not to buck off the bed, laughter escaping loudly. Hearing it, her happiness increased tenfold.

She poked his ribs. "Spill."

"I truly have no idea what you're talking about." His face held no expression, but mischief danced in his eyes.

Catherine changed track, crawling onto his chest, straddling his body.

Vincent raised a brow, settled back against the pillows, content.

"Vincent," she whispered seductively.

"Catherine-" he avoided her lips. She trailed fiery kisses along his jaw line instead.

"Where is your safe house?"

"Uh uh…"

"Vincent," she wiggled on his lap. He laughed, nervous, followed by a groan.

"You're not playing fair."

She blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her sheet 'slipped', she watched his eyes dart down. His body flushed.

"Vincent," she went in for the kill. She kissed his scar. "Tell me."

"JT is going to flip out." His hands were on her.

"We can handle him."

For the third time that evening, Catherine found herself on her back, a heaving hunk of man nestled above her.

"Yes, _we _can," he whispered.

* * *

"I don't want you to go." Catherine was in a t-shirt and undies, on her toes, arms around his neck, his hands resting loosely behind her back.

"Your sister will be home soon and I need to get back." They stood at the window by the fire escape.

"JT will be having an aneurism."

He grinned. "Yes, he will."

"We need to find him a girlfriend."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "I am _not_ getting involved in JT's love life."

"Chicken."

"Self-preservation."

Vincent's cocked his head, staring at the door.

"What is it?" Catherine turned to look.

"Your sister's home."

At her querying look, he said, "she's singing Tik Tok."

"How appropriate," she laughed. "Wait a minute: You know, Ke$ha?"

He kissed her quick. She watched him leap onto the window sill, missing him already.

"I was underground, not dead."

She rolled her eyes playfully. He winked.

_The key entered the lock._

He looked back and she mouthed _I love you_.

_The door opened._

"Cat?"

Catherine took one last look but he was gone. Heather was removing her earphones.

"Why are you walking around in your underwear?"

Catherine tried not to flush guiltily. "I have a t-shirt on. It's hot."

At her sister's puzzled look, she headed to her room in search of her nightgown.

She tidied the bed, but soon found herself lying down, daydreaming, breathing in his scent.

"Cat! What's for dinner?"

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Cat! I'm starving!"

"Coming!"

She stuffed her arms into her gown. "Reality bites," she muttered.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?"

Vincent walked in and tried to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I just needed some fresh air."

"Try again, Romeo. Evan called me at work."

Vincent tone was irritated. "Then why ask me if you already know?"

"I wanted to hear you say it."

"Yes! I was with Catherine. Yes, I saw her. Yes…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh my God. You two… you…" JT waved his hands, gesticulating in midair.

"JT," Vincent didn't realise he had a goofy grin on his face.

"You _did_. You're wearing that _I__'__m-walking-on-sunshine _look again. The one you wear whenever she is involved."

"We talked."

"Among other things I bet," he muttered.

Vincent refrained from commenting.

"Did you tell her what you and the good doctor have been working on?"

"Not yet. But I will. No more secrets."

"Evan's pissed." JT was grinning as he said it.

"Yeah?" Vincent's brow arched.

"Looks like you got the girl."

"Looks like." Vincent grinned. "Good night JT."


	17. Living A Charade

**A/N: This week's mid-season finale was mindblowingly romantic. Vincent looked so handsome and Catherine glowed with some sort of inner radiance due to her happiness at being with him. My shipper heart is still in spasms. And then the cliffhanger... *group hug***

**As usual, two chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

Catherine was having a really good day. A breakthrough on a case she'd been working for months, she'd found a bridesmaids dress for her father's wedding - that she actually liked - and she felt happier than she had in months.

Right then, she was driving back to the precinct after an afternoon at the court house.

"You know, your moods are giving me whiplash." Tess fiddled with the CD player. "What are we listening to anyway?"

"Ke$ha."

Tess raised a brow.

"What? Heather had the CD, I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane." Catherine started singing along to the first verse, trying to get Tess to sing along too.

"_Wake up in the morning feelin'__ like P Diddy…" _

Tess started laughing. "I wouldn't advise you give up your day job, Detective."

Catherine made a face, but grinned back.

"I saw Evan this morning. He looks like hell, _not _like P Diddy."

Catherine rolled her eyes at her partner, focusing on the road. Her window was down and she relished to cool air blowing through her hair. She continued humming.

"You," Tess continued, "… not so much. Which makes me think that either you two had a fight and you have the upper hand, or you're happy and the ME's not the reason."

"You know that Evan and I are just friends."

Tess narrowed her eyes. "Come on! Not the mystery guy again!" She threw her hands up in disbelief.

Catherine looked over, offering an apologetic smile.

"Need I remind you that this is the man who walked out on you after a horrific accident?"

Catherine glanced from the road to her friend, trying to look responsible and serious instead of devil may care.

"Tess, it's complicated."

"No, it isn't, Cat. Yesterday you looked ready to give Evan a chance." Catherine scoffed. "You were, don't deny it."

"Ok, so _maybe_ I considered it, but-"

"What happened?"

"It didn't feel right. I like him, respect him greatly, but I don't have…" she tried to articulate. "I don't have feelings for him."

"You were _attracted_. I saw you two together. There was chemistry."

"Why are you so determined to get me shackled to Evan?" Catherine asked, frustrated. "It's not like we have history together."

"Because he's crazy about you. And he isn't a jerk. Those are kind of hard to come by!"

Catherine pulled into her parking space. "Then you date him!"

"He isn't into me."

"_And I__'__m not into him_."

Tess started to argue but seemed to think better of it.

"I'm happy." Catherine said earnestly.

Tess made to get out of the car but turned back to add before she slammed the door, "But for how long?"

Catherine sighed, not sure she had the answer to that question either.

* * *

Back at the office, Catherine did a consult on a case, completed some paper-work and briefed the Chief. A little after 5.30pm, Tess came over. They hadn't spoken since she stormed out of the car earlier.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Sooo, I'm sorry about giving you a hard time about Evan. I know it's not my business and I don't mean to be _that person_."

"What person?"

"The know-it-all friend who thinks she's being supportive but isn't."

"Tess-"

"I won't ride you about Evan. I'm sorry."

They hugged. "Apology accepted."

"I _am _worried, though. You're not talking to me, you're all secretive. He's not one of our perps is he? Oh God. Do you have Stockholm syndrome?"

Catherine laughed. "No, he is not one of our perps." _At least not anymore_, she added to herself. "Stockholm syndrome? Really? I wasn't kidnapped."

"Oh whatever. You know what I mean."

"_Don'__t be worried_."

Catherine looked over at the large clock on the wall. The day was over.

"Want to get out of here, get a drink?" Tess's smile appeared, making Catherine feel bad for not spending much time with her recently.

Tess squeezed her again before walking back to her desk, collecting her things.

"Yes! Girls night!"

* * *

"I went to see Cat at the precinct this morning but she was in court."

Vincent tried not to grind his teeth. Since Evan had arrived, he had thrown around subtle hints, trying to figure out what had happened after Vincent left the day before.

Meeting at the old warehouse was a bi-weekly ritual. If either party couldn't make the standard time, they would pass information via JT. It also meant that he could keep their new home secret.

Vincent looked over at JT, hunched over a textbook. He was almost sure he heard him mutter, "Oh boy. Took him long enough."

Evan hadn't heard. It had been uttered too softly.

"Wanted to check in, make sure she was alright."

"She's fine," Vincent said, trying to keep a completely irrational irritation at bay.

Again he heard JT mutter, "you can say that again."

Vincent shot his friend a scowl, but he suspected JT was purposefully being obtuse.

"I need you over here."

Vincent stepped back from the microscope he was working with and went to sit in the chair Evan gestured to, a blood pressure cuff secured around his bicep.

"She knows we've been working together."

"Well, she did see us." His sarcastic tone was emphasised by his accent.

"And now she knows why."

Evan started pumping the rubber ball connected to the cuff. Vincent felt the pressure build around his upper arm.

"I was under the impression that we had agreed that you would stay away from her."

The accent, again placing emphasis on the rather highfalutin use of the word _impression_. Vincent felt his blood pressure rise; sure the reading being taken would be skewed.

"Did you miss the part where _she found us together_? I think that changed things slightly."

"No kidding." JT again.

"Look, the work we're doing here has proved invaluable. We now understand that by treating you with supplements, your rage is controlled, your blackouts have been eradicated."

"But I'm still a potential threat," Vincent said with a sneer, irritated that Evan was right.

"Your words."

Vincent just shook his head. _This guy was unbelievable_.

"You've been dispensing a lot of advice, Doc. But from what I know of Catherine, it might be best you let her decide what's best for her."

"Or _who _is best, right? You've known Cat what? A few months? You think you're qualified to speak for her?" Evan's voice raised.

Vincent's simmering anger threatened to spill. His control was tenuous at best. "I think she's qualified to decide what she wants. I'm done making decisions for her."

"Cat sees you as some kind of hero. Instead of doing what might be best for her wellbeing, she seems to put you and _your_ wellbeing first. And look at the results."

"The fact that she has a choice doesn't seem to be something you are taking into account here," Vincent shouted back.

"And what's best for her seems to be something you're not thinking about!" he shot back.

"Of course the fact that you're in love with her has nothing to do with this," Vincent's fists balled at his side.

Evan removed the blood pressure cuff.

"It doesn't."

"Yeah right." JT actually looked up from his book this time.

"JT, come on!" Vincent said, exasperated. It didn't miss his attention that Evan didn't deny his feelings.

JT walked over from his desk, annoyed that he had to play referee.

"I call a ceasefire! While this macho display is all kinds of riveting, we have more pressing matters. How's his body responding to the serum we created?"

It looked like Evan wanted to punch Vincent - foolishly ready to take his chances against a beast - and Vincent was silently screaming _bring it_.

"Good," said Evan eventually, noting Vincent's blood pressure on his chart. "Very good, actually. I think we might be able to control his hormones in much the same way you would a woman's."

The last part was said with a grin.

Vincent muttered something fowl under his breath.

"You haven't matured yet. So in many ways, your temperament is still volatile."

"Vigilant monitoring then."

"Indeed." Evan shut his medical bag. He looked uneasy. "Listen, I was thinking. This kind of research is the type of thing that becomes a benchmark in the medical field."

"Too bad it can't be published." Vincent said, ready to get going. Truth be told, he wanted to see Catherine.

"What if I could guarantee that I would publish it as a hypothesis, a fantastical exploration of what could be. I've been granted some funding for a research project-"

JT swung around. "Are you frikken kidding me?" The lenses in his spectacles were starting to steam up.

"Or you want to make a name for yourself. See yourself as a Nobel laureate in Physiology or Medicine? This is my life. Not your claim to fame."

"I have no intention of putting you in danger. But this research, its groundbreaking. It could help-"

"Help who? The million other genetically altered humans on the planet. Dude, this isn't an episode of X-Men," JT huffed.

"Not to mention the fact that if Muirfield found out about this, we would all be in danger."

Evan picked up his bag. "Listen, lets think about this. We can talk about it next week."

"He hasn't heard a word we said," JT muttered to Vincent, aghast.

"Evan," Vincent said, a clear warning evident.

"Message received." With that, he left.

"What the _hell _was that?" asked JT.

Vincent didn't say anything. The amber glint in his eye said it all.


	18. Always On Parade

After a few drinks, Catherine and Tess were both relaxed, sitting across from each other.

"You know you have to tell me more about this guy of yours right? Come on, you can't hold out on me forever."

Catherine bit her lip._ What was safe to say?_ "He's… a doctor."

Tess's eyebrows arched high. "We're clear, this _isn__'__t _Evan right?"

She shot an exasperated look at Tess.

"Just checking! What else? Come on. Share. Where did you meet?"

"I kind of knew him from way back. We just… reconnected I guess."

"An old flame?" Tess took a sip of her beer.

Catherine shook her head. "More of a distant admirer."

"So what's his deal? I know he's a great kisser."

Catherine laughed, her cheeks warming.

Tess's brows arched again. Catherine was sure she was developing permanent frown lines by the minute.

"Not just kissing? Oh my God. You slept with him!" Tess took a huge gulp of beer.

"Shhh!" Catherine spat.

"You did! Didn't you?"

Catherine struggled to contain her smile. "Yes. I did. _We _did."

"_Who is this guy?_ I've known you for years and this is the first time I see you like this."

"He's… different. But in a good way," she added in a rush. "And he makes me feel… special and happy."

"Oh. My. God. You're in love with him."

"Maybe. Yes. I think I am. _I am_." The full watt smile was back.

"Lord." Tess downed her beer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Just… Wow. What's his name?"

She hesitated a minute before saying, "Vincent."

"Kind of old school isn't it?"

Catherine's phoned beeped. "It's Heather," she explained. "She's gone back to my dad's. The wedding is next week."

"Can't believe she left you."

"I practically had to force her. Dad needs her."

"He needs you too."

"I know."

Catherine had been so obsessed with what had happened to her mother that an unintended consequence had been the slow deterioration of her relationship with her father. She hoped that it wasn't too late to rectify it.

She looked at her watch. "I've got to get going."

"Nooo! The night is young!"

Catherine laughed. "It might be, yes. But I have to write and file the report on the Ramirez case tomorrow. I need to get to bed."

Tess made a disgusted face but relented. "We need to do this again. Soon."

"I agree. I missed you."

"You see me everyday."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Tess pulled her in for a quick hug. "I do."

"Coming?"

"Nah, I got a hankering to sing _tik tok_, I hear they have it on the karaoke system."

"Doesn't hurt that the technician over there is cute too."

Tess winked at her.

"Goodnight." Catherine waved and headed out.

* * *

The evening was cool, blissfully so because it had been hot inside the bar. She took a minute to take a deep breath and clear her head. It was after 10pm but many people were still milling about.

Catherine walked around the back of the bar, digging her keys out of her bag.

"Late night?"

Catherine jumped slightly, already recognising the voice. She turned, Vincent emerged from the shadows, dark and mysterious. The lapels of his coat was turned up, giving him a roguish appeal.

She smiled, "I was just thinking about you."

"Really?" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She leaned into his touch, her head a little light. He smelled like soap and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. The combination was unique and intoxicating.

"Mmm hmm…" she swayed closer. "I realised that I became a little distracted last night and never got your new address."

Vincent chuckled, leaning close, he whispered in her ear. "You weren't the only one."

She tugged on the scarf around his neck, reeling him in.

The kiss was hot and moist. For a minute, Catherine forgot she was standing in a parking lot with people around. When they parted, she was breathing a little heavy.

"Social call?" He gestured to the bar.

"I spent some time with Tess. All the lies…"

"It takes a toll," he said, linking his hands at the small of her back.

"I sometimes wish things were less complicated. That we could go out, have a meal together, hold hands in the park, I could introduce you to my family, my friends."

"Meet Dad ha?" he teased. "I'm sorry its so… complicated."

"Don't be. I just… I want everyone to know the guy who makes me happy."

Vincent kissed her temple, disappointed that he couldn't give that to her.

"Heather moved out today," she said with a suggestive curve of her lips.

"Oh, really?" The corners of his eyes crinkled attractively as he smiled.

"Really."

She played with the lapels of his jacket. "We could… you could stay… for breakfast."

He didn't say anything immediately, so she added, "If you want to."

She looked up, unsure.

"I haven't had a sleepover in a very long time. Well," he grinned, "discounting JT. I ur…" his voice dropped, "didn't bring any pajamas."

"Its alright. I think its safe to say that you won't need them."

His lips curved up slightly. "No pajamas."

"Well, clothes are… optional."

Catherine kissed him, boldly taking control.

Reality intruded when someone shouted, "get a room!" as they drove by.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart.

Catherine crinkled her nose. "Drive me home?"

"Yes mam."

He stole a quick kiss before hooking his arm around her shoulders and walking her over to the passenger side.

* * *

Tess walked out of the bar, annoyed that the cute technician was little light in the brain department. While she didn't need them firing on all cylinders, dumb as dirt was where she drew the line.

She walked around the corner, surprised to still see Catherine's car in the parking lot. She was about to call out when she saw her friend standing a little way off, kissing a guy - _really _passionately_._

_So this was…? Who? _Vincent. _Why was she so secretive? Was he married? Have a sordid past? Stockholm syndrome?!_

Tess shook her head. Her theories were getting ridiculous and making no sense.

A drunken jerk shouting, "get a room!" pulled her out of her reverie. A pang of guilt hit her. She felt like she was intruding on a private moment, spying on her partner.

She was sure she had seen him somewhere though, but the memory hovered just outside of her reach. Cat had said that he was a doctor.

_Where have I seen him?_

Tess frowned, watching as he kissed her, their laughter barely reaching her before he got into the drivers seat and they drove off.

_Why was he so familiar?_

She decided to do some casual digging. She trusted Catherine. She just wanted to make sure _he _could be trusted too.


	19. What A Mess I've Made Of My Existence

**A/N: A belated Merry Christmas to all who celebrated. May you all have a wonderful festive season and a glorious new year. Apologies for the delayed update. |Its been an insane couple of weeks. I am officially on annual leave. Yay! I've been traveling, so no updates till around 15th Jan. Hopefully before! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!  
**

**Have a safe and blessed new year. xo  
**

* * *

It was a foreign feeling, waking up with a man's arm holding her securely pinned. Catherine didn't move for a minute, instead savoured her warm cocoon. She felt the steady rise and fall of Vincent's chest at her back, his leg pushed carelessly between hers.

They lay in the middle of her bed, the queen size a little small with Vincent's bulk. Light filtered in through the window, giving the room a golden glow. Catherine turned in his arms, resting her head on his pillow and he automatically adjusted, not fully awake.

Even in sleep, he didn't seem completely relaxed. Throughout the night she had woken when he tossed or turned restlessly. She would touch his chest or his arm and he would calm a little. A few hours later it would happen again. An hour or two before dawn he finally settled.

His lashes were dark against his skin, the scar on his cheek jagged. His hair was tussled - adorably so - and her palms itched to run her hands through them again. But she didn't want to disturb him.

"Staring isn't polite," he growled, his eyes still closed.

"I wasn't staring."

"If staring made a sound, I would hear it. You were staring."

"_Maybe_ I was." She chuckled. "Good morning."

Hazel eyes met hers and it felt like butterflies were gently flapping their wings inside of her. _Would it always feel like this?_

"Morning," he murmured, at the same time reaching for her, pulling her closer.

"This is a pretty good way to wake up."

He grinned, looking around. "What time is it?"

"Just after 6.30. You seemed... restless last night. Everything okay?"

"Sorry," he looked sheepish. "It's hard to relax completely. When you've been on the run for as long as I've been…"

"She dropped a quick kiss on his chin. "I thought maybe it was me. You know, having someone next to you."

He shook his head. "Somehow, you've always had a soothing effect."

Catherine raised her brow as she sidled closer. "Soothing? Really?'

He chuckled. "Among other things."

Her alarm went off, interrupting more pleasurable pursuits. "I can't be late for work. I have an enormous report to complete and file before the weekend starts."

"It's always work with you, Chandler. How about, I get breakfast and you get ready?"

"Deal," she whispered, grabbing a kiss before she dashed into the bathroom.

Catherine buttoned up her white blouse, aware that her apartment smelled good. A quick brush through her hair and she was about to rush out of the room. She stopped for a minute, taking stock of the woman who stared back at her.

Her green eyes sparkled, flecks of gold radiating subtly from her irises, giving her eyes its sparkly quality. In jeans and a shirt, she was dressed for work. Inside and out, she felt like a million bucks.

Her boots echoed dull thuds on the wooden floor leading to the kitchen.

"It smells amazing in here," she said, surprised to see the kitchen counter laid. Vincent had put out two placemats, white plates and coffee cups. A single daisy she was sure came from the pot on the sill of her neighbour a floor up, rested in a flute on the table.

"Pancakes?" she asked, sitting down.

Vincent placed a pile in the centre of the table, some fruit, honey and maple syrup already there. The coffee was freshly brewed and made her mouth water.

"JT loves pancake. So I learnt to make them. It's a small thank you, but it's the least I could do."

"Its delicious."

They ate in a companionable silence, occasionally Vincent would tell her a funny story or she shared some insights on a case.

"Does this strike you as normal?"

He looked confused, swallowing a mouthful.

"You, me, having breakfast together. No drama. Almost feels too good to be true."

"You're here, I'm here. It's real."

"For now," she mumbled.

"I… one day at a time alright?"

She nodded and her phone rang. It was Tess.

"I have to go. Chief is on the warpath and Tess is in the firing line."

Vincent stood. "Yeah. I need to get going too."

"Will you be okay?" she asked, concerned. "It's light out."

"I can get around."

Catherine shrugged into her jacket and Vincent lifted her hair out of the back and onto her shoulders.

"See you later?"

He nodded. "You ur… seeing Evan today?"

She frowned. "I don't know. Maybe. Why? I haven't seen him since I saw you at his office."

"Just wondered." Catherine sensed he wasn't telling her something.

"Is this about the work you two have been doing together? I thought you told me everything?"

Last night, Vincent had told her about the work Evan had been doing on his beastly DNA.

"I ur... left out the fact that Evan wants to publish his research."

"_What_?!" Catherine's jaw dropped open. "What do you mean publish?"

"I mean publish, in a medical journal. He's convinced that he can keep the research specific enough to contribute something to the medical fraternity without compromising the research subject."

"You're kidding right? One word of his tests get out, Muirfield will take it a flashing neon sign that you're alive."

"Look, I just wanted to give you the heads-up. Evan… he's not a bad guy." It pained Vincent to admit it. But it was true. "He's done a lot for me. And his research has helped in trying to understand what's happening with me. But my gratitude doesn't extend to giving him permission to publish his work."

"You're defending him?" Catherine was frowning, already distracted.

"No. Hey," he said. "Everything's going to be alright."

Catherine wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

* * *

"Evan, you got a minute?"

Evan looked up from his microscope and watched Tess walk into his lab. He leaned back in his chair.

"For you Detective Vargas, all the time in the world."

Tess rolled her eyes, charmed. He really was so cute. And that accent!

"Look, I wanted to run something by you, see if you could shed some light."

"Sure. But isn't this normally what Cat is for?"

Tess shifted uncomfortably. "It's about Cat."

Evan looked surprised. "Ah. I see."

"No, no you don't. It's not like that. I'm just worried about her."

Tess caught something pass over his face, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he schooled his features and said, "How can I help?"

She measured her words. "Cat's been… distracted the last couple weeks. I had assumed – incorrectly – that there was something happening between you two and when she didn't deny it, I thought that was the explanation."

Tess watched his jaw tighten.

"I just thought she wanted to keep the office romance on the down low. But then she confirmed that she was seeing someone else…" Tess didn't know whether Evan even knew he had just nodded in acknowledgement. "I wondered if you knew who this guy was."

He scoffed. "Tess, why would I know who Catherine was dating?"

He used her full name. He hardly ever used her full name. _He knew something_.

"Look, I'm worried about her alright? It's not like Cat to be so secretive. It's like she's ashamed of him. Or hiding him because he's a criminal or something."

Evan shook his head, derision lining every action.

"You know something, don't you?"

He got up, packing up his microscope. Tess had seen this behaviour a million times. He was defensive.

"No, I don't. Catherine's personal life is her business. It has nothing to do with me."

"Is he a con? Is he playing some number on her? Oh my god! Was he the one that hurt her?"

Tess didn't even know where that assumption had come from but the minute it was out of her mouth, she saw him tense, his shoulders freeze.

"Tess-"

"I was kidding! But your reaction tells me that I'm on the money. Evan, what the hell is going on? Why is Cat still seeing a guy who put her in the hospital?" she demanded.

"He didn't… it was an accident… _dammit_…"

"I thought you didn't know anything," she interjected. "You said you didn't know anything!"

"Let it go!" For a second, Tess shrunk back. She had never seen Evan so furious before. He was almost vibrating.

"News flash, Marks, I'm a cop. And I can smell a lie a mile off. You're defensive, you're agitated and you're giving me the run around. You know something about Cat's accident don't you?" her eyes widened. "You helped cover it up?"

He started sorting through some papers. She pressed on.

"You know about them. Cat and _Vincent_?"

He looked over, stunned. "What do you know about him?"

A lamb to the slaughter. Tess had thought he would be smarter.

"Only what you've told me."

"I haven't told you anything." The word anything came out sounding like _enuh-thing_.

She stepped into his personal space. "You've confirmed his name; you've confirmed he put her in the hospital and that you covered for him. Although I'm not sure why. Your body language is telling me you don't really like the guy. And we both know you have feelings for Cat. So that begs the question, why help a guy who's hurt the woman you're in love with? What does he have over you? And how the hell can you do this to Cat?"

Her voice had started to rise, firm and sure.

Evan shushed her and walked to close the door to the lab.

He cursed. "How did I get in the middle of this?"

"I can see to it that you get out. But first you have to tell me what the hell is going on."

Evan seemed to be wrestling with himself before he finally said, "Vincent Keller. His name is Vincent Keller."

It rang a bell in the nether regions of her mind.

"Keller? The dead guy from that case we worked a couple months ago?"

Evan nodded.

"He's dead."

"No, he's not."

Tess frowned. "According to the US Government, he's MIA."

Evan sighed heavily, wearily rubbing his eyes. He gave Tess the highlights – how he had met Vincent initially, Vincent's involvement with Cat (the very little he knew) and briefly the research he has been doing. The main part of the story was about Catherine's accident. And how he _had_ helped to cover it up.

"Oh my god."

"You've said that three times already," Evan said, irritated to have been placed in this position. "I didn't let Cat _do _anything, by the way. I've had the 'he's dangerous, stay away' conversation."

"You're asking me to believe that Cat is in a _relationship_ with a presumed dead ex-marine turned super soldier who almost _killed_ her and you _helped_ cover it up?" She didn't wait for him to respond. "And the intern I saw in your office a couple weeks ago..."

Evan frowned. "Why would you ask about that?"

"Because at the time I thought he looked suspicious and he had been working on a piece of your equipment. Wait a minute, I met him. At that warehouse outside of town… when we were investigating Keller's connection to a homicide."

"Damn, you _are _good." Tess glared at him and he continued. "Yes, that was Vincent's best friend, JT."

Her mind was reeling.

"How do you know about Vincent anyway?"

"I saw them together." She shrugged, uncomfortable. "It looked intimate."

He didn't respond, but his jaw had clenched again.

"I gotta talk to Cat." She made her way to the exit.

"Tess, wait! Its compl-"

"Complicated. Yes, I get it. But one of my best friends, my partner, is involved with a dangerous…" she struggled to find the right word and settled for 'person'. "Don't tell me this isn't my business. She's a cop. She isn't above the law. And Evan," she said pointedly, "neither are you."


	20. But You Love Me Even Now

The morning was an exceptionally busy one. It was a Friday and for some reason, all the weirdo's were out in full. The drive from Evan's had helped Tess gain some perspective. Perhaps she should wait for Cat to say something to her. But why hadn't she? _Didn't she trust me?_ The latter disturbed her more than anything else.

When she'd reached the precinct, Catherine was on her way out. They waved at each other across the parking lot. Catherine didn't see the suspicion on her partners face, Tess didn't pick up the anxiety on hers. The distance between them was more than physical.

Tess sighed and headed straight to her computer. It was time to do some digging on Vincent Keller and refresh her memory on what exactly the official report said about Catherine's 'accident'.

* * *

Catherine caught Evan just as he was leaving his office. He seemed surprised to see her. "Cat!"

"We need to talk," she said unceremoniously, pushing him back into the office and closing the door.

"What is it with you and your partner demanding talk time?"

"What?"

"Never mind. Is this your new modus operandi? Am I not worthy of a greeting anymore?" He was frowning and Catherine found herself feeling guilty.

"I spoke to Vincent this morning," she began.

"Ah," Evan said, realisation dawning. He put his bag down and perched on the side of his desk. "Go for it."

"What?"

"Go at it. Tell me what a horrible person I am. Rake me across the coals. It's nothing your boyfriend hasn't already done."

Catherine stared at him, flabbergasted. "Evan, this isn't a joke."

"I never assumed that it was."

"Then what are you trying to do?" she cried. "You're seriously thinking about publishing your research on Vincent? Do you have any idea of the danger you would be putting him in?"

"That's all you care about isn't it?" he exploded. Catherine was taken aback, so he toned it down. "Look, I understand there are risks. And I'm not trying to be callous, but this research, it's ground-breaking. The avenues this could open in the understanding of the human genome…" he seemed awed. "It's endless."

"Evan, I've worked with you for years. I respect you as a friend and as a medical professional. Why would you-" Catherine prayed for calm. "There are ethics involved. You were treating Vincent confidentially; you can't just throw that out of the window."

"I agree. And that is why I promise to ensure that he is in no way compromised."

"You cannot possibly guarantee that! Why are you doing this?" she asked, this time resigned.

"This research can help people, Cat. I want to be a part of that."

"For the glory?"

"You know me better than that. I'm not the bad guy."

"Really? The Evan I thought I knew would never be this selfish."

"Selfish? Helping others? Helping you. Helping _him_!" he scoffed. "Let me tell you about selfish. Stringing me along, making me believe there was something between us when you were never really interested were you? Lying to me about cases. Making me believe that I was seeing things, that evidence right before me was a lie."

"Whatever happened between us – or didn't happen – I'm sorry. But you can't use that as a weapon against Vincent."

"He isn't innocent."

"I know that he has done horrible things. But he didn't choose to be like this. He didn't choose to have his life taken from him. And he didn't choose to have to live in exile forever!"

"My God, you're in love with him."

Catherine ignored his statement. "Please. Reconsider."

Catherine didn't know the effect that her shimmering eyes had on him, their glassy depths enough to make him powerless. He steeled himself.

"I'm running late for a consult. I really have to go." He picked up his bag and opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him out. "Look, I haven't decided what I'm going to do. I will be careful. And diligent about what I say and how. I know there is a bigger picture. I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"How is endangering his life the right thing?"

"How is covering up for his violent mistakes the right thing?" He countered and immediately looked sorry for causing her pain. "Speak to Tess. She knows."

"Wh- What?" Catherine felt her stomach sink and panic grip her. Her carefully crafted pack of cards was crumbling around her.

"She was here this morning." Catherine remembered his earlier comment. "She saw you together somewhere. She was asking questions."

"And _you told her_?"

"Stop making this my fault! You're the one with the secret life. You've dragged all of us into this by protecting your boyfriend. Don't push this on me."

She knew he was right. But that didn't make her any more furious. At him. At herself. _Dammit_.

"Evan! Evan!"

Catherine watched him walk down the corridor.

* * *

She had been back at the precinct for an hour but Tess was out with some rookie's, showing them the ropes. She called her. Her name would flash on the caller ID. Tess answered on the fourth ring.

"Hi, where are you?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "Down at the training facility. I was assigned to rookie duty."

"Do you think we could talk?"

"About what exactly?"

Catherine winced. Her partner was seething. She had every right. She heard Tess sigh and then say, "Your place?"

"No. Let's meet somewhere else. I'll text you the address. An hour?"

"Sure." Catherine could hear the scepticism in her voice.

She put down the phone and immediately sent Tess a text, praying she was doing the right thing.

* * *

Catherine watched Tess pull up and took a deep breath. When the friends faced each other, there was tension in the air. Tension and a liberal amount of distrust.

"Thanks for coming."

"Yeah well…"

"Evan told me, that you went to see him."

"Cat-"

"Before you say anything, all I ask is that you keep an open mind. Please."

Tess raised a brow but shrugged. "Open mind."

"Thank you."

* * *

"And now she hangs out in the faculty room, giving me smiles. I mean, what does that mean? Is it a smile smile or is it a _smile_? Because I'm not sure what to do about either and…" JT watched Vincent's senses perk up, interrupting him mid-tirade. "What is it?"

"Someone's here."

"Probably those developers sizing up what they can do with this place. They can't enter - court order. They like poking around though."

Vincent shook his head in the negative.

"What?"

Vincent sent an apologetic look JT's way. "I think its Catherine."

He watched his friends eyes bulge. "What?! Come on! I thought we agreed…!"

"I told her in cases of emergency only."

"Like she listens to that! Dude, my mobile is like the…" he struggled to articulate, "…Vincat speed dating portal! And that was supposed to be for emergencies only!"

"_Vincat_?" Vincent just shook his head, listening. His unease grew. "She's not alone."

"You're kidding me?! Come on! How are you supposed to stay hidden, under the radar, off map, below the surface-"

"JT, I get it!"

"I give up. You two are hopeless."

"It might be Evan."

"Oh great. Not relieved at the prospect. Like I need more of that brand of awkward."

Vincent heard the door open and Catherine called out.

"Back here!"

It wasn't Evan, the footfalls told him that. He kept the news to himself. JT would find out soon enough. Might as well put off the inevitable explosion.

Catherine walked though the doorway, entering the makeshift living area. He noticed she didn't take much time to look around, but zeroed in on him. He saw the apology written all over her face and his stomach dropped. Looking beyond her, he saw her partner. When her eyes landed on him, it was anything but friendly.

"Tess, Vincent Keller," Catherine said. "Vincent, my partner and friend, Tess Vargas."

Vincent heard JT mutter something that sounded like, "Jesus Christ."

"That's JT."

"Well, now that we've all been introduced, when's the tour bus arriving?"

Everyone frowned, Tess said, "What?"

"The tour. Seeing as Catherine here has no idea what TOP SECRET means!"

"JT." Vincent growled in warning.

"I'm sorry-" Catherine began but was cut off.

"Hey, your parents coming over for dinner next? How about your buddies at the station? We can host your usual Friday night mixer."

"Hey, why don't you cool it."

JT zeroed in on Tess. "Cool it? _Cool it_?!"

"Alright, everyone. Just calm down. JT, I'm sorry. But Tess found out about Vincent. I thought it was better to tell her what's going on than risk her inadvertently endangering you both."

"Guess what, we wouldn't be in this position if-"

"JT, enough!" Vincent looked at Catherine apologetically, mindful that her friend was observing him closely.

JT held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Whatever."

"Its true though. Tess knows about you and… I just thought this was best. I couldn't lie to her any longer."

"_You _couldn't lie any longer..? Like I said, whatever."

Vincent ignored JT, stepping forward, extending his hand in a belated greeting. "Hi."

He was sure Tess didn't want to shake his hand but Catherine looked over when she hesitated and eventually, she briefly shook his offered hand, her eyes narrowed. He felt like he was being scanned under a microscope.

"So you're the suped-up soldier guy who ran out on my partner, but not before you ensured she ended up in rehab for months."

Vincent winced. Catherine gasped. JT chuckled.

"Direct. Feisty. Somewhat flawed logic, but ironically true. This might be more entertaining than the Evan Marks show. Drinks anyone?"


	21. And Still I See Somehow

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I'm finally back in the saddle! Two chapters, enjoy! xo**

* * *

"Who is this guy?" Tess asked Catherine, not expecting a response.

"The _name_ is JT," he said.

"I know that." The look on her face read, _duh_.

"Then why did you ask?"

Tess's eyes narrowed. "It was rhetorical."

"Whatever." JT rolled his eyes; she pulled a face in return.

Catherine passed a puzzled look in Vincent's direction. They were dealing with kindergarteners.

"Alright, time out," Vincent said.

Catherine's friend frowned. "Seriously?"

"Tess!" Catherine said sharply.

"You said something about a drink, TJ?"

"Aren't you on duty? And it's JT."

"What are you, my boss?"

"More like a concerned citizen."

"Arrest me. Oh right, you can't. It might draw attention to you and… your friend."

"Tess!" Catherine's mouth formed a confused O.

Tess ran her hands through her hair, shutting her eyes tightly for a moment. Vincent was sure she was praying they would all disappear and she would wake up from a really bad dream.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually. "I'm sorry, ok? This is just…"

"Weird." JT supplied.

"Yeah. And…"

"Surreal."

"Totally. But…"

"Freaky."

"How about annoying! I can finish my own sentences!"

JT made a face. "Just helping out."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Yeah, I'll bet."

"I don't think this was a good idea." Catherine said, already regretting her decision - not to tell Tess, but to bring her here.

"NOW she gets it," JT huffed.

"Hey, lay off her alright?"

Before JT could respond to Tess, Vincent stepped forward. His head hurt from the verbal sparring. It was distressing, amusing and confusing all in the same measure.

"Tess, you have a lot of questions... I'm sure. So… want to take a seat and we can talk…?"

"Maybe we should do this another time?" Catherine piped up, nervous. "When tensions aren't running quite so high," she whispered to Vincent alone.

"No. No. Let's… talk."

Vincent nodded and gestured to the little table. He walked past Catherine, resting a comforting hand on the small of her back. He wanted badly to lean down and place a reassuring kiss on her lips. His instincts told him it wouldn't be a good idea – mainly because of her suspicious best friend hovering.

Catherine read his thoughts and her eyes apologised. She did take his hand though, and squeezed briefly on her way past.

They were seated, but there was one space open at the little square table. It wasn't like JT to miss out on the action. But he came back.

"Drinks!" He deposited beers on the table. "You'll need it."

"What happened to your citizen's arrest?" Tess asked, already reaching for a beer.

"Planning on going back to the office?"

"No."

"Planning on getting drunk?"

"No," she said, and then reconsidered. "Well, maybe. Actually, it depends on what Robocop here has to say."

Catherine winced. Vincent displayed no visible emotion.

"Nope," JT said. "Too soon."

"Ah." Tess nodded. "Too soon for nicknames? I get it."

"Decent attempt though. Cheers."

"Riiight. Drunk it is then!" Catherine interjected, taking a gulp of her own drink. She missed it when Tess grinned and JT grinned back.

* * *

"She doesn't like me."

"No. She-"

"Doesn't like me."

Catherine sighed. "She doesn't _know_ you."

"Doesn't _want_ to know me."

"Vincent," she said, shifting on his chest. It was after 22.00. Tess had left a few hours before. Despite threatening to drink copious amounts of alcohol, she wanted to be very sober when she heard it all. She had listened - frowning most of the time - asked a lot of questions, looked shocked, horrified, eventually overwhelmed and angry. At that point, she drove herself home.

Catherine hadn't planned on staying over, but JT was snoring in his room, they were finally alone and it was Friday night. She lay in his arms, on top of the bedcovers, staring into the darkness. She rubbed his chest soothingly, knowing he was tense. She was worried about the state of her relationship with her best friend too.

"She just found out about all this supernatural stuff. Let's give her some time."

"She's badass though."

Catherine laughed. "Yes, _that_ she is."

"She had JT going." Vincent caught her roving hand and linked their fingers.

Catherine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't see the sparks?"

"I saw the mutual, barely veiled animosity."

Vincent mocked. "Come on, Detective."

"JT. And Tess? You're kidding?"

He shrugged. "You're the one who said you wanted to get JT a girlfriend."

"_That, _this afternoon, that wasn't unbridled passion. I've never seen Tess that way." She frowned.

"For what it's worth, JT can be pretty petulant. You know this. But this afternoon…"

"Stop!" She poked his ribs. "It's too weird."

It was Vincent's turn to laugh. "Agreed." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Are you mad about me telling her?"

"Honestly… I'm not comfortable," he admitted finally. "It's another person who knows."

"She would never tell anyone."

"I trust your judgement. But we didn't think Evan would tell anyone either, and now he wants to tell the world."

"Tess isn't Evan," she said defensively.

"But you all have complicated histories." He felt her shift uncomfortably and continued. "Another person who knows is another possible route which Muirfield could use to try and get to me, JT and you too."

"I couldn't lie to her anymore."

"I know." She felt him nod. "Let's make a deal. No more confessions, unless we agree it's the only way? It's dangerous. For me, but also for everyone who knows. JT signed up for this. Evan and Tess didn't. They have no idea what they're getting involved in. I can't let any more people get hurt because of me."

"_I signed up for this too_." Catherine lifted her head from his chest and leaned over, pressing her lips against his. "Deal," she whispered. "You think JT will ever forgive you for telling me where you live now?"

Vincent chuckled. "Eventually." His chest shook from suppressed laughter. "Maybe if you brought Tess around more often, he might relax, be in more of a… forgiving mood."

Giggles bubbled up inside of her. "Who's the matchmaker now?"

"You brought her here."

"Not as a possible girlfriend!"

Vincent shrugged, but his eyes danced with laughter. "I think…" He lifted Catherine onto his chest and her breath _whooshed _out. "That's enough talk about JT."

"What would you like to talk about then?" she asked, leaning close, their lips inches apart. Her hair fell forward, creating a cocoon. The smell of her shampoo was intoxicating.

His lips curved, mischief evident all over his face. Her heartbeat tripped as his one hand cupped her lower back, the other gripped her thigh before expertly exchanging positions. In an instant, she had a heaving man between her thighs.

"I don't think I want to do any talking right now."

Catherine's body flushed, her thighs parting, allowing him to settle. "Me either."


	22. Wonderful, Beautiful Is What You See

She was humming softly; The Calling's, _Wherever You Will Go_. Catherine was so distracted as she shuffled pancake into a platter that she didn't realise Vincent had been watching her until she felt his arms come around her waist, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"Good morning."

She jumped a little. "Hi," she whispered back as she used the spatula to heap the last pancake onto the mound she had already cooked.

"It's Saturday. You don't have to be up this early."

She turned in his arms. "I know. I couldn't sleep."

"Tess?" he said intuitively.

"She wasn't too happy when she left here."

He nodded. "Going to see her?"

"I think I need to. I called her twice, she didn't pick up."

"It is early," he offered as a comfort.

"She always picks up. Anyway, why are _you _up?" she kissed his cheek.

"Woke up to a racket in my kitchen." When she frowned he clarified. "Super hearing."

"Well," she stepped closer, rubbing her bare leg against his jean clad one. "Maybe we should put you back in bed."

He raised his brow, eyeing her legs. "My t-shirt has never looked this good on me." He pushed her up against the counter.

"For the love of… ! My eyes! They were not meant to see this at eight in the morning. What have I done to deserve this?" JT's words were without bite.

Catherine and Vincent pulled apart slightly and she hid her face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed. They were both grinning.

"You heard him!" She whispered. "Why didn't you warn me?"

He only winked. "I never thought you were a prude, JT."

JT snorted and headed for the refrigerator, but not before noticing Catherine's attire – what looked like Vincent's t-shirt revealing very naked legs. His mouth opened, his jaw snapped shut and he just shook his head slowly.

She scooted behind Vincent, trying to hide her bare legs. "Can I get you some breakfast, JT?" she called, watching him hunch over and stare aimlessly at the contents of the refrigerator.

"What are you making?"

"Pancake."

"I might be interested. Toppings?"

"Maple syrup and butter," Vincent said.

"I could be persuaded." He turned and stared at the scene before him. Vincent faced him, both hands in the pockets of his jeans. Catherine was on her toes behind him, trying her best to hide behind his bulk, one arm around his shoulder, the other around his waist. She was peering out from behind his shoulder, her hair loose. He had to admit that even though she was embarrassed at being caught in a t-shirt a few sizes too large the neck dipping off her left shoulder, she looked happy. And Vincent looked happy too. Happy and relaxed.

"This is awkward. I'm not the only one who finds this awkward right? I'm taking a shower. Hopefully _we'll_ _all _be appropriately attired when I get back." His words were amused and not irritated.

"I'll keep them warm!" Catherine called out as he left. As soon as he was out of sight, she started giggling. Vincent turned around and snaked his arms around her.

"Was that awkward for you, Detective Chandler?"

"_Mildly_ mortifying, Dr Keller."

He peered down. "I kind of like the view." His voice held a deep, husky tone she had come to recognise all too well.

"Well, you would, wouldn't you?"

They kissed. What started out as little pecks soon deepened until they were both breathless.

"I need to get dressed and _you_ can keep JT's pancake warm." She gasped as his tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear.

His lips moved back to hers and Catherine felt her head swim. She pooled her resolve and forced her hands to stop roaming the expanse of his chest and push him away lightly.

"Heat. Pancakes. Now."

Vincent pulled back, his hair mussed, his smile roguish.

"Sure?"

She didn't answer. Just pointed.

* * *

Catherine concentrated on her breathing as she ran, enjoying the light breeze. She entered the park and looked around. Calling Tess had proved unsuccessful. Texting even less so. At least calling lead to voicemail. The next best thing was to get some exercise and hope that her friend was predictable enough to run this morning - as she did every Saturday morning. Twenty minutes into the circuit she was sure Tess had changed her mind. About to turn back, she spotted a long ponytail ahead, the runner's sweater had a logo of the precinct at the back. _Tess_.

Catherine picked up her pace and followed. Tess would turn around at Heartbreak Hill. She did. And saw Catherine.

"Hi," Catherine said, her breath laboured as she stopped next to her friend. "You weren't answering my call-"

"So you decided to charge after me?"

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want us to go a whole day without talking about all this stuff."

"Really? Because I didn't see us doing a lot of talking the last couple months. In fact, instead of talking, you've been lying to me. And hiding things behind my back!"

Catherine wasn't sure if Tess was breathing so hard because of the run or because she was angry. She reasoned it was likely a little of both.

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop saying that!"

"What else do you want me to say? Tell me what to say!"

"Nothing. Just... nothing."

"I don't want this get between us."

"Good luck with that." Tess snorted. "What were you thinking, Cat? Getting involved in this high profile, you-could-get-your-ass-killed-in-a-cover up government conspiracy."

"I'm a cop," she said lightly.

"You know this is bigger than anything we have access to. This is classified. The type of stuff conspiracy theorists have insane orgies thinking about!"

"It found me." Tess wasn't listening.

"You've been sneaking around, you're in a relationship with a… an _experiment _that went wrong, he put you in the _hospital _and I had NO IDEA what was going on." She was ticking offences off on her fingers. "You never, it seems, had any real interest in Evan, only to throw me off the scent-"

"That's not true. Vincent isn't just an experiment-"

"And more than any of that, you're an officer of the law. You have purposefully and consciously concealed evidence in cases to protect these people you're involved with!"

"I'm sorry you feel betrayed. I know you don't want to hear that I'm sorry, but it's the truth. It's the only condolence I can offer. Lying to you wasn't easy. Keeping the truth about what was happening in my life was torture - _especially _from you. But this secret wasn't mine to share."

"You told Evan."

"That was different. Vincent was in danger, I needed-"

"Would you ever have told me? Or would you have lied forever?"

"I don't know," she said honestly.

Tess nodded, her head down, her frustration echoing off her in waves. "So Evan actually told me when you never would have?"

"Tess, I wanted to tell you." Catherine used her hands as she spoke, frustration making her gesticulate. "But I couldn't. Every person who knows about Vincent's life is in danger. I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't sign you up for this!"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life!"

"But not with this?"

"I'm sorry you can't see that I was just trying to protect you."

Tess rested her hands on her hips. Catherine didn't say anything either. They were going in circles.

Eventually, Tess said, "He is dangerous. Everything you told me yesterday confirms it. Being really hot _and _smart with that whole, I'm-a-broody-tortured-super-soldier-thing going on doesn't mean he gets a free pass. In my books, that just makes him a bigger threat."

_He _was Vincent. Catherine tried not to smile at the 'hot' comment. She focused. "He didn't ask for what happened to him. I won't abandon him to struggle with this alone."

"What if he hurts you again?"

"He won't!" she exploded. "I feel like the only thing anyone in my life who finds out about this ever goes on about is how stupid I am! How I clearly cannot make decisions, that my _trained _instincts aren't enough to help me navigate my life."

"We care about you. I don't want to see you hurt."

"Then trust me. _Trust me_. I know I didn't give you the same courtesy," she said in a hurry, "but I will do better. Please..."

"You're willing to put your life on the line for him?"

Catherine didn't hesitate. "Yes. Because it's what he _has done _and _would do _for me. In a heartbeat."

"I'm uncomfortable with this. Really uncomfortable."

"Alright. How can I help make you more comfortable?"

"You cant. Cat, I love you, but you've done things I would never have thought you capable of."

"Look, if you're talking about cases and evidence, it never interfered with finding the real perp. He's actually helped!"

"And now you're justifying doing something you know was wrong. Do you even realise how big this is? You could lose your career."

Catherine bit her tongue and sent up a prayer for patience. "I don't take the things I did lightly. I did what I thought was best at the time. But Tess, I would do it again to keep him safe."

"I'm your partner. I guess we both know what you're asking me to do." Tess pressed her lips together, as frustrated as Catherine was. "Or not to do. I have to go."

"Let's have coffee tomorrow. Please. I want this to be ok between us."

"I can't. I have this thing."

"Tess-"

But she had already started jogging. "You signed up for this, Cat. I didn't." she shouted back. Catherine watched her till she was out of sight. Vincent had said the same thing last night.

* * *

"How did it go?" Catherine looked up from the couch in her apartment. Vincent had entered via the window.

She sighed heavily, standing and running her hands down her sides vigorously to warm them. "Not as expected."

"When you didn't call, I figured you'd want some time alone. When you didn't respond to my text, I was worried."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just lost track of time." She was surprised to see it was dark out.

He nodded in understanding. "Its just that when I don't hear from you or JT, I get nervous. Old habits die hard."

She walked over and kissed him. "Sorry." She was distracted.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pushing her hair out of her face. She was tired.

She shook her head. "She's mad. She has every right to be."

"You knew she would be. What is it?"

"I just had this fantasy that once she knew, once my _best friend _knew, it would be easy. But its just more complicated than its ever been."

"You said it last night. it's a lot to digest. She just needs to adjust." Something passed over her face. "What?" he asked. He noticed she couldn't meet his eyes.

"How do you know… how do I know that… that this is all worth it? No, not worth it. I don't mean that. But that… that we're doing the right thing? My life is a mess. My friends are mad at me, my partner, my best friend, my colleague… everything is upside down. My family can never know. Its like the truth hasn't set me free. Its just… made everything a hundred times for complicated."

"I can't answer that for you. We all do what we think is best with the information we have available to us at the time."

She looked up, a watery smile on her face. "I know."

"If you need some more alone time…"

"No, no," she said quickly. "You're the only thing that makes sense in my life right now. I guess we have to save each other."

Vincent pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. He wished he could feel guilty about the complications he'd brought to her life. He didn't rejoice in them, he hated to see her in pain. But she was the brightest light in his life. He couldn't help but want to protect that ferociously. He'd dealt with the ex man friend. Maybe it was time he dealt with the best friend.

The beast quaked a little in his boots.


End file.
